


The Dead Inside

by lotrspnfangirl, psychoticmidds



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Blood and Gore, Character Death, F/M, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sabotage, Slow Burn, Survival, Tags May Change, Violence Against Walkers, Walkers, Woodbury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-10 22:38:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4410572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotrspnfangirl/pseuds/lotrspnfangirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychoticmidds/pseuds/psychoticmidds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dead are walking, changing the reality of everyday life at every turn. Every moment becomes a struggle, a fight for each breath taken. They're living in an apocalypse, and Rick Grimes finds himself struggling to find his place in his family and the group of people he's saved. Daryl Dixon wants to go back to the things he knew -- solitary and his older brother. But the challenges of living in a dystopian world force them all to face their new realities in ways they would never have imagined. Because really, surviving the dead  outside is nothing compared to surviving the dead inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> [](http://s1194.photobucket.com/user/poisonedgeekie/media/Dead%20inside_zpsa7pzkz5n.jpg.html)  
>    
> 
> 
> **A/N:** Unbeta'd and just for fun! We do not know or own anything that has to do with The Walking Dead. We are just taking, and playing. Feedback fuels the fire and comments are greatly appreciated!!  <3 Jo & Dani
> 
>  This is a co-written fanfiction.  
> Jo (psychoticmidds) will be writing for Daryl & Dani (lotrspnfangirl) will be writing for Rick.

 

 

Rick Grimes' life was falling apart. It was funny, really, since the entire world was in complete chaos, death becoming more prominent than life. Strangely enough, Rick could handle that. He knew how to shoot, how to protect and to serve. Aim for the head, watch your back and those you love. Easy, post-apocalyptic life was just the same as real life. And yet...

Rick exhaled slowly, letting himself sink down to the ground, back pressed up against the outside wall of the farmhouse. He glanced around the yard once, scanning the perimeter for any movement, before he allowed himself to drop his head into his hands. His life was falling apart.

Just behind the wall he was leaning on, Carl was laying with a bullet in him, a fever raging through him and struggling for every breath he was taking. His son had been shot by a man who had only been working to provide for himself and for his family. The man was doing exactly what Rick and Carl had been doing -- hunting, surviving. It hadn't stopped Rick from returning the favor and putting a bullet into his chest, but Rick at least understood where he was coming from. A life for a life, reality, because although no one was saying it out loud, Rick wasn't sure if Carl was going to make it through this.

Rick felt his stomach churn and he pushed the thought away quickly, willing himself to look at the positive. They'd found this farm. The farm had a doctor, well, Vet. So luck had to be on their side, didn't it?

From above him, he heard a soft murmuring of voices, Lori singing softly at Carl's bedside and Rick focused on the sound of her voice instead. How many nights had he come home late to find her singing softly while Carl slept? If he closed his eyes he could almost picture himself leaning against Carl's bedroom door, Lori wearing her soft, pink nightgown, her fingers carding through Carl's baby soft hair as she sang. Life had been good, so very good. Though, Rick couldn't necessarily blame the Walkers on the strain between him and his wife.

A walker didn't ask Lori to spread her legs.

The sound of footsteps crunching across the gravel had Rick's attention snapping back up, his right hand shifting back to his hip, fingers already wrapped around the butt of his pistol. Daryl, the redneck's bow-brother raised an eyebrow, eyes darting from Rick's hand to Rick's face before he nodded once.

"You comin' or what?" Rick nodded at the question and pushed himself up from the ground.

"I'm ready," he cleared his throat and Daryl stared at him a second more before shaking his head and pressing on down the path to the front of the house. Rick sighed, kicking at the gravel with his boot. Maybe he should check on Carl one more time... just in case. But the thought of seeing Lori, her large, brown eyes pleading with him, begging him for forgiveness or absolution for whatever fucking excuse she would come up with now, made his blood boil.

If he couldn't shoot her, he might as well shoot a walker. He followed after Daryl who was waiting impatiently at his motorcycle, arms crossed tight over his chest.

"Just us?" Daryl asked.

Rick looked around at their group and the group that was living at the farm-- Glenn was fast, but he needed him here to watch out for the rest of them. Carol was watching Sophia, Andrea was a joke and Shane... Well, if Shane went, he would end up being the target. "Just us," Rick echoed and Daryl shrugged, swinging his leg over his bike and starting up the engine. Rick checked the backseat of the small Ford the farmer Hershel lent them to make sure his rifle and extra ammo were in the backseat before he slid in and started the ignition. He tipped his head to Daryl and pulled out of the driveway after him.

 

Nodding back at Rick, Daryl revved the engine of his brother's motorcycle, tearing across the gravel of the driveway. He was still unsure of Rick and the rest of the group, but with Merle gone, there was nothin' else for him. Dodging in and out of abandoned vehicles, Daryl threw a glance over his shoulder to see how Rick was fairin' through the unmoving traffic. So far so good. Didn't need to be wasting time movin' vehicles if they could help it.

The farmer had given them a list of medical supplies he would need to save Carl's life; Daryl had only agreed to go to get out. He couldn't sit round that farm and do nothin', it would drive him crazy. Comin' to a tight fit, Daryl brought the bike to a stop and swung his leg round, dismounting from the bike. Rick parked the Ford and climbed from the driver's seat to help Daryl move the cars off to the side of the road. Daryl drew his knife as he approached the vehicle on the right, looking at Rick to make sure he was ready, just in case a walker came tumbling out the door when Daryl opened it.

Silently, Rick gave Daryl the signal and he threw open the door; the smell of rotted flesh hit him hard, but the corpse inside remained still and lifeless. Covering his nose and mouth, Daryl coughed, and with his free hand, he reached into the car, pushin' the corpse out of his way. Prying open the lower panel beneath the steering wheel, he exposed the wires he needed and struck them together. The engine sputtered and faltered.

"Come on..." Daryl grumbled, trying it again. The engine sputtered once more before it revved to life. "Got it!" Switching the gear into neutral, he called over his shoulder,"Push!"

Rick went to the back of the Sedan and began to push while Daryl steered the vehicle to the side of the road, effectively moving it out of their way. Daryl shifted the gear into park and moved out of the car. Straightening up, he noticed a walker that they had managed to catch the attention of. Sliding the crossbow from his back, Daryl quickly docked an arrow and took the shot. The arrow flew through the air, piercin’ through the skull of the walker, squirting blood from the wound as the corpse fell lifelessly to the ground. Slinging the bow back onto his shoulder, Daryl assessed the clearing. "Think ya' can manage to get through?" he questioned Rick, unsure of the pig's driving skills. Rick took his own glance at the clearing momentarily before he spoke:

"I think I can manage." Daryl shrugged his shoulders, doubting the pig and returned to his bike. Swinging his leg over and taking his seat, he looked back, watching Rick get into the Ford and drive through the clearance, proving Daryl wrong. Knocking the kickstand back, Daryl straightened the bike out and took off, racing out in front of Rick and taking the lead once again. The town wasn't too far from the farm and when they arrived there was still a lot of daylight left for them to search with.

Killing the engine, Daryl lowered the kickstand and set the handles down before he looked over to the Ford, waiting for Rick. Silently, Daryl hoped that the pig's emotions wouldn't get in the way and possibly put them at risk because his mind was on his son and not the task at hand. Daryl couldn't even begin to understand what that was like, and honestly, he didn't care to understand. This was the guy that had left his brother handcuffed to a roof and left Merle behind to die. Yeah, so Rick had went back, so what? That was only because he felt guilty, not because he cared if Merle survived or not. So why the hell was it Daryl's problem to care if Rick's son lived or died?

Honestly, it wasn't Daryl's problem, but as much as he loathed Rick for what he did to Merle, he couldn't let an innocent kid suffer. Rick motioned for Daryl to follow, pulling his revolver, and Daryl drew his crossbow, taking a moment to dock an arrow before catching up to the pig.

"Check the pharmacy first?" Daryl asked, keeping his voice low and trying not to draw any unwanted attention from any walkers that may have been nearby. Rick curtly nodded his head in response and headed across the desolate streets which were littered with trash, crashed vehicles, dried blood pools, and lifeless corpses. Daryl thought he would have gotten used to the silence by now of the ghosts towns, it was eerie. At the same time, it made hearing the walkers all the easier. Approaching the door. Daryl took the left side while Rick took the right; the two exchanged a glance, letting each other know they were ready.

Daryl used the end of the crossbow to bash against the door, and the two waited to listen to any sound coming from within before proceeding. A few dull thuds came from the other side of the door; it sounded like there were two, maybe three, nothing the two of them couldn't handle. Rick looked to Daryl, wrapping a hand around the doorknob, Daryl pushed off the side of the building and moved to the other side.

Daryl’s finger rested on the trigger, prepared to shoot once Rick opened the door. The arrow flew off the bow the second the door was opened, striking through the first walker’s skull, while Rick used his knife to take down the other. Daryl didn't waste time docking another arrow, and instead used the end of the bow to bash the final walker’s skull in. Stepping over the lifeless corpse, Daryl grabbed the end of the arrow and tugged it free, blood squirting out. Rick stepped past Daryl and headed into the building, digging out a piece of paper Hershel listed what he needed on, and began to search.

Daryl stood at the entrance of the store, watching out for walkers and giving Rick the time and freedom he needed to concentrate. Shifting back and forth from foot to foot, Daryl's eyes scanned the area and noticed something shuffling around from inside a nearby store. It was probably more walkers, but they seemed trapped inside so he put it out of his thoughts and let his gaze continue to scan the rest of the surroundings and back again. Rick swore loudly and something clattered to the ground.

Daryl turned his head and looked over his shoulder to check on the pig; he was alright, it seemed like he had dropped something because he had too much stuff loaded in his arms. With a roll of his eyes and a soft scoff, Daryl moved out of position and grabbed a shopping cart, rolling it over to Rick so it stopped at the pig’s feet.

"Thanks," Rick grumbled, unloading everything from his arms into the cart.

"Mhm..." Daryl grunted and went back to his post, noticing the figure he had seen before in the nearby store was now gone. Furrowing his brow, Daryl rationalized with himself before jumping to conclusions; the walker could have moved to a different part of the store, nothing to worry about. Daryl willed himself to settle down and not let his paranoia get the best of him, even if was other people, would it be such a big deal to run into them?

“I told you someone was in there." Daryl heard a man say, not talking all that quietly from behind a vacant vehicle. Why were they hiding? Something didn't set right with Daryl about this. Looking back, Daryl let out a soft whistle, snapping Rick's attention to him. He motioned out the door with his head before Daryl turned his neck back into position and lifted his crossbow.

Thankfully, the pig had some knowledge of signals and came quickly to Daryl's side, pulling his revolver once more.

"Show yourselves," Rick barked out with that authoritative tone every pig possessed. Demanding to be respected and obeyed; even Daryl's body tensed for a minute before it relaxed with ease. For now, Rick was on his side.

 

Rick's heart was pounding in his chest, beating against his ribcage. He swallowed hard, willing himself to calm down as he peered out of the doorway, eyes scanning the pavement before their storefront. Beside him, Daryl was still and Rick had to glance down at his stomach for a moment to see if he was even still breathing. He snapped his attention back to the parking lot when they heard the scraping of boots on the pavement-- he could be impressed with Daryl's stealth skills later.

Daryl's eyes were darting back and forth and his fingers twitched against his bow. "Is there another door?"

Rick shook his head once. While he'd been collecting the medications Hershel had listed, he'd seen the service door--completely blocked off with heavy metal shelves and in no way an easily accessible entrance. The only way they would be leaving was the door they were standing out, same with anyone wanting to come in. Daryl nodded once, just a slight movement of his head, and then squinted. Rick's eyes flicked to where he thought Daryl was looking. An abandoned car, their own vehicles, but no movement.

The twang of Daryl's bow made Rick jump and he was further impressed when he heard the curse from behind the car.

"Okay! Okay!" A deep voice called out, two hands appearing from over the hood of the car. Daryl had a small smirk on his face and together they watched as a short, stocky man pushed forward, Daryl's arrow sticking out from the top of his shoe.

"Missed," Daryl shrugged, cocking another arrow, his eyes staring at the man's left foot.

"Where's your friend?" Rick shifted slightly, making sure his body was behind the metal door frame, his eyes scanning the length of the car the man had emerged from. The man looked confused, opening his mouth to argue he was alone, and in tandem, Rick raised his pistol as Daryl raised his bow. Rick could see the man swallow hard, could  practically feel the man's fear pouring off of him in waves as he stared back at them. It made Rick feel something he hadn't in a while -- in power, in control. It felt so damn good. "Step forward."

"Slowly," Daryl added, voice low and threatening. Rick almost smiled at the look that crossed over the strangers face before he bent down and yanked up his partner. The two men stood side by side, half their bodies blocked by the abandoned car.

Rick waved his pistol, the first man jumping slightly as he followed the instruction and started shifting out from behind the car.The second man hesitated and Rick's attention was instantly locked on him.

The first man, overweight, scared and seemingly a push over. He would be easy to get information out of, easy to handle. The second was the wild card and Rick was not interested in playing that game. He cleared his throat, making sure the sound carried over the parking lot and the second man's eyes pinned him with a heavy glare as he shuffled to the side. Daryl clicked his tongue beside him, his fingers twitching against the bow.

"Don't trust them," Daryl whispered and Rick fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"I don't trust anyone," he answered back and Daryl snorted.

The first man was fully cleared from the car, his hands shaking as his eyes flickered between Daryl and Rick. The second man stopped again and Rick tightened his hold on his gun, adrenaline suddenly back full force and pounding through his veins. It happened quickly; two shots, a scream, and a twang from Daryl's bow. Rick exhaled slowly, lowering his gun to point to the ground as he stepped out of the doorway, eyes scanning the area for any walkers drawn to the sound of the guns.

He knew, without looking, that Daryl was just behind him, didn't need to ask if he was okay. They'd gotten their shots out first, the second man's shot going wide over Rick's own head. Rick stared down at the corpses, two new decorations from the street and shook his head.

"Come on," he said cleared his throat and turned on his heel, shoving his pistol into the back of his jeans."I've almost gotten everything."

 

 

Daryl lowered the crossbow, following after Rick back into the pharmacy, resuming his position by the door. The gunshots would have drawn the attention of the walkers, not leaving them much more time to gather many more supplies.

"Hurry up," Daryl muttered pointedly towards Rick as the pig went back into the aisles to grab whatever was left on the list. Daryl paced again, beginning to become impatient, starting to believe Rick was taking his sweet ass time on purpose. Huffing in frustration, and he craned his neck trying to get a look at what the pig was doing. Hearing the sounds of growls coming toward the pharmacy, he snapped his head in the other direction instead. "Shit," Daryl swore under his breath; time was up and the dead were upon them. "Rick!"

Docking arrow after arrow, Daryl started to release them upon the animated corpses that were closing in on them. _'The hell is he?'_ Daryl wondered to himself, not allowing himself to let his gaze leave the walkers. Docking the last arrow, he shot it off and lowered the crossbow and reached for his knife, hearing the familiar sound of Rick's revolver firing from behind him, taking out the walkers one by one, and littering the streets with even more corpses. The last one fell and Daryl walked out of the pharmacy, retrieving the bolts from the skulls of the fallen bodies, then turned on Rick upon hearing the wheels of the cart rattling, his temper flaring.

"The hell were you?" he yelled, ready to throw a punch at the pig for leaving him hanging the way he had.

"You had it handled," Rick shrugged his shoulders and Daryl locked his jaw and swung a fist at the pig; Rick stepped out of the way, grabbing on to his wrist and twisted Daryl's arm behind his back, restraining him. "Calm down," Rick stated smoothly, Daryl struggled to break the grip.

"Screw you! Let go of me! "

"I will, once you settle down," the pig stated calmly, waiting for Daryl to stop struggling before letting him go. Daryl pulled away with a huff, venomously staring Rick down, hating how easily the pig could overpower him. Merle would never let him live this down if he knew about this. Storming away from Rick, instead of helping him load the supplies to the trunk, he went to his bike and mounted it. He kicked the ignition, drawing Rick's gaze to him; his eyes narrowing at Daryl lightly.

"Aren't you going to give me a hand?"

"You got it handled," Daryl spat back mockingly, knocking back the kickstand with his foot and tearing off, leaving Rick behind. Some part of him wanted to keep on going right on past the farm; there was no reason to be there, Daryl knew he didn't fit in with the rest and he had no desire to fit in with them either. Somewhere along the road he heard the engine of the Ford catching up to him before passing him by.

Angrily, Daryl threw the bird at the pig, revved his engine and sped out in front of the Ford; it became a race and before Daryl knew, they were back on the farm's property. Cursing under his breath, Daryl cut off the engine, knowing there wasn't much gas to get him far away now. He waited for Rick to step out of the truck. “You can go by yourself, next time," Daryl spat at the pig and dismounted his bike, storming off away from the farm house and separating himself from Rick.

Adrenaline and fury pumped through Daryl's entire body, drawing the attention of the other members of the group who were setting up camp outside a few yards from the barn. Getting as far away as possible from the rest without actually leaving the property, Daryl gazed at the woods and headed into the trees, figuring he would take his frustration out as he hunted down some supper for himself.

A few hours later, Daryl returned, the bodies of squirrels lying limply on a string against his back. Frustration was still churning inside of him. He headed at first to his own space but noticed the others had managed to get a fire started. Daryl could have made his own, but instead he decided to go to the others, not entirely sure why. The kids had no food... yeah, that was the reason.

"Did you hear Daryl? Carl's going to make it! You helped save him," the small girl named Sophia praised and Daryl sneered at her.

"Didn't do shit," he said roughly, slinging the squirrels from his shoulder.

 

Rick exhaled a breath he hadn't known he was holding and felt himself collapse back against the wall.

Carl was going to be okay. Carl was going to survive.

"We're still not a hundred percent... but, like I said, his fever has broken. I am impressed you managed to find some antibiotics as well..." Hershel was continuing, his fingers tracing over the bottle of Cipro Rick had managed to find, a small smile on his face.

"But he's going to be okay?" Lori's voice broke through Rick's joy, managing to draw up the anger he'd pushed down for the last three hours he'd been sitting beside her at Carl's side. When they weren't sure, they shared something. They shared their love for Carl, their fear for his safety, and for a while, Rick could just pretend that they were two worried parents, clinging to hope and desperation for their only child. Now that Carl was safe and thank God for that, the choking feelings of hatred and disgust Rick held for his wife started to creep back in.

"Yes, I think he is going to be just fine." Rick gave Hershel a tight smile and the older man excused himself from the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

"Oh, Rick," Lori's voice broke and he glanced at her, her large, brown eyes swimming with tears. She reached for him, taking one of his hands in both of hers and let out a small sob. "He's going to be okay, he's really going to make it."

"I know, I heard the Doc," Rick replied, pulling his hand away from her, surprised at himself for the lack of vehemence in the action. For her part, Lori looked as if he had just slapped her and it almost made Rick laugh. Did she really think...?

"I think we should talk now..." Yeah. She did. Rick shook his head, staring at her in disbelief.

"About what, Lori? What could you possibly have to say to me?"

"That I'm sorry?" She shrugged, eyes searching his. "That I love you and I made a mistake? That I... I thought you were dead, so did Carl and I--"

"Opened your legs to the first willing man who would have you?" Rick cut her off quickly, shoving out of the chair he was sitting in. He stood over her and she curled in on herself, arms coming around her stomach protectively and it made him feel sick. "Seriously, Lori?" he asked, spinning away from her to stand by the window. "I have never hit you. Not once. So you can act the victim all you want, but I was the one that was abandoned."

"I had to get Carl to safety!" Lori hissed and Rick closed his eyes.

"I know, Lori. And I am glad you did. You had to get him out. You did not have to fuck my best friend two weeks into a fucking apocalypse." he turned again, pinning her with a cold stare."You think that maybe finding shelter, food, a weapon to protect your son would've been more important than opening your fucking legs?"

Lori stood up quickly, her hand darting out and clapping across his cheek. Rick gave a soft laugh but raised his hand to catch her wrist when she moved to slap him again.

"You can be pissed all you want Lori, I would be if I decided to whore myself out before I even knew if my husband's body was cold or if my son was safe."

"Well, he got shot on your watch, not on mine," Lori whispered back, handshaking in his grasp. They stared at each other, both of them breathing hard, the soft sound of the IV bag Hershel had set up dripping was the only other sound in the room. Rick glanced at Lori's ring, the diamond she wore reflecting in the soft candlelight and he reached up with his free hand, slipping it from her finger. "What-- Rick, you can't--"

"I can," he argued, gripping the ring in his fist and releasing her. "Unlike you, Lori? I know what's going on out there. So we're going to stick together, we are going to have each other's backs and more importantly? We're going to make sure that Carl is kept safe and fed until this entire fucked up situation has been fixed. It's us against them Lori, and even though your heart is cold as stone? You're still alive. That means you're not completely useless. We are not, however, married and the conversations between us will be purely business or about Carl and his safety."

"Rick... Please..." Lori whispered, tears swimming in her eyes. "I love you..."

"No, Lori. You love yourself, and you loved our life. If you loved me? We wouldn't be having this conversation." Rick turned, shoving Lori's ring and his own deep into his pocket before crossing to the bed and kissing Carl's forehead. "I'll be back, buddy," he said against Carl's ear and then he slipped out of the room, leaving Lori alone.

 

"Could you please not use that language around my daughter?" The woman with the dike haircut asked, and Daryl shot a glare at her.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Daryl spat incredulously, dropping the squirrels on the ground completely, no longer caring about them. He couldn't believe this woman. Wasn't she the one that had an abusive husband that cursed her out and beat her down? Now she had the balls to tell Daryl to watch his language.

"Hey man, have some respect. She asked you nicely to watch your language." The second pig, Shane, jumped into the confrontation, laying a hand on Daryl's chest, and he slapped it away

"Don't touch me," Daryl snapped darkly at Shane. "Your boyfriend's not around to back you up," he threatened.

"Both of you stop, you're scaring Sophia!" The protest fell on deaf ears and Shane reached out for Daryl's shoulder, trying once more to settle him down. Daryl moved away from the attempted contact and punched Shane in the jaw, surprising everyone around the fire; the pig rubbed at his jaw, checking his hand for blood.

"Screw ya'll," Daryl muttered, picking up the squirrels from the ground. That was the last time he was going to do anything for them; storming off, Daryl returned to his own area. Putting aside the squirrels, he went to fetch his own firewood and start his own fire.They could starve now, for all he cared.

Daryl was roasting the first squirrel when Shane approached him, “The hell you want?"

"We need to talk about your attitude..."

"My attitude?" Daryl interrupted witha scoff at the pig.

"Yes, your attitude and lack of respect for everyone in this group." Shane barked, and Daryl rolled his eyes.

"If anyone deserved respect, maybe I'd give it to em'," Daryl replied coyly, turning over the squirrel roasting on the open fire.

"Seems like you respect Rick some," Shane pushed a button and Daryl got in the pig's face, ready to strike him again.

"Rick can go fuck himself... or wait... it's your job to fuck him. Ain't it?" Shane threw the first punch and the two of them began to brawl. Abruptly, he felt himself yanked back and an arm wrapping around his neck.

"That's enough!" Rick's voice spat, holding Daryl back, but he was screaming at Shane.

 

Rick had his arm around Daryl, the shorter man gripping his forearm, almost painfully as he struggled to calm himself down--or possibly get out of the hold and kick Rick's ass as well as Shane's."I said enough," Rick hissed as Shane took another step forward.

"This punk--" Shane started and Rick was quick, drawing his pistol and stopping Shane mid-sentence and mid-step.

"I said enough."

"Rick," Shane's voice was soft, eyes trailing from the gun back up to Rick's face. "You're seriously going to pull a gun on me? Me? Your brother?"

Rick felt himself laugh and Daryl took the moment to slip out from under Rick's arms, still breathing heavy as he watched the two of them pair off. "My brother? My brother, Shane?" Rick asked, voice soft. He saw Shane flinch and knew he heard every single word as well as the ones he had yet to say.

"Rick, come on, man. This isn't about us..." Shane shook his head, holding his hands out before him. "I'm just taking care of a 'lil problem over in the group."

"I don't care what you were doing." Rick shrugged and slowly lowered his gun, placing it back in his pants."Far as I'm concerned, you can go and fuck yourself. The only reason I haven't shot you, you backstabbing son of a bitch, is because you know how to aim and to shoot and can do a hell of a lot to keep this group safe."

Shane stared back at him, something Rick couldn't decipher crossing over his features before he sighed, dropping his hands to shove into his jean pockets. He looked away from Rick, rocking back on his heels.

"Can you two have your lovers spat elsewhere? This is my spot," Daryl broke the sudden silence and Rick jumped, completely forgetting that he had been there. Shane's face snapped up and he glared at the other man.

"I came out here for you, actually," Rick replied, turning back to Shane. "You can leave."

"You're not the fucking boss, Rick. We're partners, brothers!" Shane hissed, taking a step forward and Rick was quick to close the distance between them, towering over Shane as they met chest to chest.

"You're nothing to me, Shane, except a means to an end. This case? Safety. So go make yourself useful and get the fuck out of my sight before I change my mind and do decide to shoot you."

"Get off your fucking high-horse, Rick," Shane muttered, shoving Rick's chest as he turned. "You'll get over it soon enough and you'll come crawling back. No matter what you say not? We are brothers, our blood runs blue, and you can never change that."

Rick watched as Shane stalked off, kicking the gravel with his boots and sending small rocks skittering across the lawn. The area around them became silent, save the crackling of the fire and sizzling of the meat Daryl was cooking in the fire. Rick took a deep breath and turned slowly, crouching down to his knees so he was the same height as Daryl who was still on the ground, now tending to his dinner.

"Carl is going to be just fine," Rick started and he took Daryl's grunt as a good enough response. "Just wanted to tell you thank you. I wouldn't have been able to do that without you."

 

"Don't need ta' thank me...” He shrugged it off, eyes set on the squirrel, body tensed. He didn't need to overhear any of what was said between Shane and Rick; he didn't care about their problems or their bromance. Made Daryl sick to his stomach, actually. "Keep your boyfriend away from me."

"He's not my boyfriend," Rick shot back. ”He was my best friend before he decided to sleep with my wife." Daryl didn't respond; he removed the cooked squirrel from the fire and bit into it. He was acting as if he didn't care, but he wondered to himself how someone claimed to be your best friend did something like that.

"You need better friends,” Daryl muttered, his mouth full of squirrel meat. Then he motioned to the rest of the pile. ”I ain't gonna eat that all," was his way of telling Rick to take it back to the others so they could eat.

Rick shook his head with a light chuckle, “Don’t I know it." The pig picked up the pile of squirrels and put a hand on Daryl's shoulder, which the redneck pulled away from. “I didn't mean to leave you hanging back there. I knew we didn't have time and I had to get the rest of the medicine. I'm sorry." Daryl's eyes shifted and caught Rick's gaze at last and he grunted in response.

The pig left Daryl alone after that, and he finished the squirrel, using the fire to keep himself warm. Leaning back against the trunk of a nearby tree, Daryl pulled his crossbow on his lap, eyes set on the woods. Looking and listening, fully aware of every movement and sound that came from the tree line. Bored and restless, Daryl kept his crossbow close, deciding to take a walk around the farm and get a feel for the perimeter.

Daryl found himself by the farm house and he peeked through the window to check on Rick's boy. What Daryl saw in the room made his stomach drop in disgust; Shane had his arms around Lori, kissing her neck, and a hand on Carl's head petting him almost possessively.

Forcing himself to turn away, Daryl hurried away from the window, mind reeling. Rick really didn't have Shane at his side like Daryl had assumed, and he was sure the pig had no idea what was going on inside at that moment. Maybe... Maybe Rick did need Daryl to have his back. Just for now, least until Daryl found some other group or even Merle.

Catching Rick heading for the house, Daryl hurried to stop him; Rick didn't need to walk in on that shit. “Rick?" he called out for the pig's attention, " Want to do a perimeter scope with me? Get a lay of the land? Just in case the shit hits the fan?"

"Can it wait? I want to check on Carl," Rick tried to walk around him and Daryl stopped him again.

"Ain't nothin you can do for him. Kid needs his rest, and you need a distraction. “ Daryl was being forward, but something he had said managed to make it through that thick head of Rick's.

"Alright, fine," Rick breathed out a heavy sigh and followed after Daryl. He was never one for small talk, so awkwardly, Daryl walked at Rick's side, looking around the property. "Land is pretty large, I don't think Hershel knows what he's got here. Or what the danger is." Daryl grunted in response, letting Rick ramble. At least his mind was on something else. "Soon as Carl's on his feet we'll be moving on."

"Where?" Daryl finally spoke and Rick shook his head; Daryl could tell how lost he was.

"Shane wants to go to Fort Benning..." Rick began. He didn't need to say that he didn't want to go with him, Daryl could read it in his expression. They finished walking the perimeter and headed back, Daryl saw both Shane and Lori were now with the rest of the group and no longer plastered against each other.

"See you in the mornin'," Daryl grumbled, leaving Rick's side and going back to his own space to sit back down against the trunk of the tree. He stared out at the tree line until he fell asleep.

 

Rick sighed, running a hand through his hair as he walked away from Daryl and towards the rest of the group, his eyes immediately zoning in on Lori and Shane. When they saw him, they separated, Shane slipping around the back of the group to where Glenn was checking their ammo supply. Lori stiffened but threw him a small smile when he approached. They honestly thought he was stupid, thought he hadn't seen that they were standing beside one of another?

Rick fought the urge to roll his eyes as he walked up beside her, crossing his arms over his chest immediately. "How's Carl?"

"Hershel says he's doing well. Fever hasn't come back and when he changed the dressing, everything looked good." Rick nodded once and went to move on, Lori's hand immediately stopping him. "Rick..."

"Don't, Lori. Unless you want to talk about Carl? Let go of my arm." From across the group, Rick met Shane's eyes, saw the way Shane's neck muscles flexed, the way his eyes narrowed as he looked between Rick's eyes and Lori's hand on his arm. Rick stared him down, daring him to say something, to make a move. The rest of the group seemed oblivious to the tension stretching across their fire, Carol and Sophia laughing along with Andrea who was animatedly telling stories about her childhood, Glenn still chatting away about their ammunition and the guns he'd managed to score in their last trip out to town.

"Rick, we need to talk about this," Lori whispered, fingers tightening. Rick sighed and turned, shaking his head.

"We already talked about this Lori, and this isn't the place or the time to rehash it all." He said finally, staring at her until she nodded and let her hand slip free. "I'll be doing first perimeter." He pushed away from her, dropping to a crouch by the fire and accepting a squirrel Carol had cooked for him. He nodded his thanks, stopped by Glenn and Shane to discuss their patrol plan, and then left the group behind. He relaxed immediately once he was outside of the heat and the light from the fire, taking solace in the cool, dark of the night.

The farm yard was quiet--most of the animals that Hershel had living on the farm, they'd butchered already, smoked and stored. The rest were kept locked in their pens, extra layers around their shelters to block most of their sounds. Rick hadn't been around many farms, but it surprised him how quiet this one actually was. It took him a moment, and he had to hold his breath, in order to hear the distant singing of the crickets in the fields.

He made his way around the vegetable patch, eyes scanning over the crops, thriving in the summer sunshine. Hershel’s daughters spent hours out in this garden during the day, weeding and watering, picking and storing the crops they harvested. Rick wasn't even going to pretend to believe he understood everything they were doing, but he made a mental note to ask if Carol or Andrea or maybe even Dale knew anything about gardening. If they ever found a place to call their own, it would be necessary for their survival.

A soft cracking from the treeline behind him had Rick's heart racing and his eyes immediately trailed along the fence line. He held his breath, listening hard, eyes focusing on where the continued cracking was coming from. He sighed softly when a deer -- emaciated and timid-- broke through the trees. He watched it as it picked along the overgrown grass, looking for food, it's ears and eyes trained on its surroundings just as Rick's own were.

Finally, the creature looked up, spotted Rick and froze, eyes wide and terrified. Rick shifted on his feet, and it bolted, leaving Rick completely alone again. Rick was surprised at the feeling of longing that hit him when the deer was out of sight. He'd always thought himself as a fighter, a lion if you will, but life has a funny way of showing you just how weak you are. Rick sighed and closed his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Waking up to the sun rising, Daryl pushed himself away from the tree and picked his crossbow up. Stretching, Daryl let out a groan while placing a hand on the lower part of his back. Straightening up, he walked away from his spot and scoured the perimeter before he approached the other tents. At first glance, Daryl didn't see anyone up and about; he circled the house and looked in the window and spotted Rick at Carl's bedside. Removing himself before he could be seen, Daryl came around the side and stopped when he heard the hushed sounds of voices.

"We can't just leave without Carl, and Rick would never allow us to take him." Lori whispered, her voice panicked. 

"He won't have any other choice. He'll be the only thing standing in between us and leaving with Carl. No one else has the balls too. Rick's alone!" Shane shot back quietly, making Daryl's blood boil. 

"You're not going to hurt him are you?" Lori asked, frightened. 

“If I have too," Shane remarked. 

Daryl moved from his position, rounding the house the other direction and headed up the porch steps and knocked on the door. A small blonde answered. 

"Yes?” She looked at Daryl confused. 

"Is it alright if I talk to Rick?” Daryl asked and the girl looked at him baffled. 

"Uh... yeah. Come in." The petite girl said, moving out of Daryl's way. He nodded his head and walked in the house and followed the blonde to the room, grunting at her as he passed her, and entered the room he saw Rick in. 

"We need to talk," Daryl grunted at the pig, glancing at the boy on the bed. 

"Now?" Rick questioned, obviously not wanting to leave Carl's side, but this couldn't wait. Daryl nodded his head. 

"If it wasn't important, I wouldn't be here, Rick." Daryl pointed out in a husky tone, narrowing his eyes. Rick heaved a sigh and got up, rubbing Carl's head before he followed Daryl out of the room. 

"What's so important?" The pig demanded and Daryl told Rick everything he overheard Lori and Shane say outside. 

"They got one thing wrong, you aren't alone. They aren't leaving here with Carl. They want to go by themselves, they can." Daryl sneered, crossing his arms and leaned a little on his feet. Waiting for Rick to react or say something. 

Rick stared at Daryl as he talked, trying to focus on the words he was saying, but the sound of his blood pounding in his ears was overwhelming. He could feel himself shaking, anger bubbling thick and hot in his stomach, threatening to choke him. It took him a moment to realize that Daryl had stopped speaking, the redneck's hand resting on his crossbow which was always slung across his back if he wasn't aiming at something, and apparently waiting for Rick's reply.

"They have no idea who they're fucking with," he whispered finally, and the corner of Daryl's lip rose in a smirk. "They're fucking lucky I didn't kill them when I caught them fucking... now they think... they fucking think they can take my son away from me?" Rick laughed, the sound short and clipped, and he shook out his fists, trying to dispel some of the energy thrumming through him. He turned around, shoving his hands back through his hair, pulling at the strands. Who the fuck did Lori think she was? As if Shane -- Just barely passed my qualifications, got put on probation more than once for drinking or fucking on the job-- could protect Carl better than he could? Had Lori seriously slipped so fucking far that she was oblivious to the facts right before her face?

He spun back to Daryl, clenching his fists at his side. "They're not taking my son anywhere." 

"Like I said, I got your back." Daryl nodded once, a short bob of his head. But Rick knew his group, made a point to get to know every person that joined their party and every threat they could possibly pose. Daryl, the loner, was a flight risk -- but Rick would use him for as long as Daryl was there. He nodded, clapping Daryl on the shoulder once. 

"We need to figure out the rest of their plan... if they're just planning on leaving as the two of them with Carl, or if there are more people in on the plan."

Daryl nodded, biting on his lower lip for a moment. "Yeah, well... this group isn't the greatest at talking' quiet. I'll keep my ear to the ground, see what I can find out."

"Good," Rick nodded and looked back towards the house. "I'm going to check with Hershel, see what he says about Carl's recovery and find out what it would take to move him, if that was necessary."

Daryl nodded again and slipped around the back of the house, leaving Rick standing in the corner alone. Rick took a deep breath, then spun on his heel, slamming his knuckles into the side of the house. The sickening crack of the siding cracking from his own flesh and bone was satisfying. The only thing better would be if it was the sound of flesh hitting flesh, and Shane's face being on the receiving end. 

 

Rubbing at his knuckles, Rick shoved his hand into his jean pockets and made his way back to the front door of the house. He slipped back into Carl's room, taking his spot at the side of Carl's bed and grabbing the boy's small hand. "I've got your back, buddy," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss his son's forehead. "I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

It was easy for Daryl to creep through the farm unnoticed, most of these people had no idea what they were doing. The only one he had to worry about was Shane; he was the only one smart enough to take notice of anything. Which made Daryl only that much more appreciative of how instinctive his knowledge was of hunting and tracking prey; like a deer for instance, they could hear something so small and it would spook them. A deer seemed too gentle for Shane though, he was more like a dangerous grizzly bear.

Daryl wasn't surprised that Shane and Lori were no longer where they had been previously, but across the yard he could see Shane bent closely to Andrea. Was he seriously asking her to join his side? It nearly made Daryl laugh out loud, but he kept it to himself, and shook his head instead. Shane could have Andrea for all Daryl fucking cared. She wasn't any threat at all to him or Rick. 

Walking over to them, he adjusted the strap of the crossbow, just seeing how quickly Shane would stop talking when he noticed Daryl approaching them. And it was pretty fast. 

"M' I interrupting something?” He mumbled and Andrea shook her head, while her eyes told Daryl everything he needed to know. 

"Actually, you are." The pig spoke up and Daryl's eyes flashed to him in a challenging manner. He found himself wishing for Shane to go there and give him more of a reason to pummel his ass right then and there. "So why don't you go back to your spot and stay out of our business, like you always do." Shane spat. Daryl's grip on the strap tightened, his knuckles turning white. "The hell are you still doing here anyway? No one wants you around and you obviously don't want to be a part of this group!" 

Clicking his lounge, the bow came off Daryl's back and bashed into the side of Shane's face, successfully knocking him on the ground. 

"Daryl?!” Andrea exclaimed, getting up and actually defending the fucking prick on the ground. "Shane's asking you a reasonable question. You had no right to attack him!" 

Was this bitch serious? Daryl never hit a women before, but he sure was fucking tempted. Shane got to his feet and came at Daryl who raised the bow, resting his hand on the trigger. 

"Gimme a reason," Daryl dared, a hand rested on Daryl's forearm and he looked over his shoulder as he pulled away and saw Rick standing there, gun aimed on Shane, letting Daryl know silently, he had his back. 

"All of you need to calm down, and lower the weapons!" Dale's voice spoke up, and they had seemed to draw a crowd. Shane smirked at the opportunity, eyes locked on Rick. 

"Is this the kind of leader you all want?" He asked, without making eye contact with the rest of the group. "Lets this asshole get away with everything." Shane motions to Daryl before he continues, "Got his son shot. He can't protect you. He can't even protect himself. "

"Better watch your mouth sunshine," Daryl hissed darkly at Shane, itching to pull the trigger. “You ain't half the man Rick is." 

"You're going to stand up for him?" Shane asked with a soft chuckle, "Since when do you give a shit about Rick? He's the one that left your brother behind in Atlanta! I'm sure you haven't forgotten that." Daryl narrowed his eyes at Shane and pointed the bow at his foot, nearly pulling the trigger when Rick stopped him again. 

"Don't, he wants you to sink to his level." Rick stated in a calm voice that it had surprised Daryl. “You all want to join Shane? That's fine. But my son, isn't leaving with you. You'll have to take him over my dead body."

"And mine," Daryl added gruffly.

Shane laughed, the sound cutting through the group which had fallen silent watching the confrontation.

"You think you have a choice?" Shane asked, taking a step towards Rick. He reached out, patting down the front of Rick's shirt and laughed again. "You've always been so... naive, Rick."

"Naive to believe that my partner, who was constantly being written up or on probation because he couldn't stick with one thing, would finally change. Naive enough to believe that my wife was faithful, as was my best friend. Naive to believe that I fought my way through hell after you and Lori left me in a fucking hospital, filled with Walkers and corpses, that when I finally found you, my family, I would be relieved and happy to have your backs." Rick paused, watching Shane's temple pulse and knew his ex-partner was close to snapping. From the corner of his eye, he could see the distress between the group, people leaning over to whisper back and forth to one another. 

"Here's what I do know, Shane. And all of you," he directed towards the group, looking around the circle before settling his gaze back on Shane. "I have a little boy in there that I would die for, willingly and in a heartbeat. I made a vow nearly fifteen years ago to serve and protect the people of my town, and I reckon that means the people in my group now. I know how to use weapons to protect myself and others, unlike you Shane who... if I remember correctly, failed your last qualifications and... What was that? Oh, right, shot me on accident and caused me to be in the hospital to begin with when this whole shit storm happened?"

"I don't know what the fuck you're--"

"Funny thing about abandoned hospitals -- no one is there to tell you not to read something, like your own chart. This man," Rick pointed at Shane, looking back to the group again. "Is a backstabber, a cheat, and the laziest piece of shit I've ever had the pleasure of working with. And he wants you to leave with him. He wants you, as man power or bait, I don't really know. I fought my way here, for my family, for the people I love and need to protect. So now there's a choice. This isn't up for discussion, there will be no voting. It's black and white, me or Shane. Those are your options." Rick stopped, letting his gaze trail back over to Shane who was shaking his head slowly. 

"You don't know fucking shit, Rick," Shane hissed, hands clenching at his sides. "You don't know shit!"

"That's all you've got?" Rick asked. "You're going to scream the same line at me repeatedly because you don't know shit, Shane. You only know that I'm right."

"You son of a bitch," Shane swore, launching himself at Rick. His fist collided with the side of Rick's face, the momentum knocking both of them to the ground. Rick reacted quickly, slamming his knee up and catching Shane's groin, using Shane's loss of concentration to flip them over and straddle Shane's hips. He slammed his fist down, catching Shane's jaw and then leaned forward, pressing his forearm against Shane's neck and pining him to the ground. 

"Rick!" Lori screamed, running up from the back of the group, her eyes wide as she stared between the two men on the ground. "Rick, let him up!"

Rick ignored her, staring down at Shane. He hated him, hated him more than anything else. The irrational part of Rick's brain was even content to blame Shane for this entire thing-- blame him for this fucked up world they lived in now where the dead walked among them. Shane's face was purplish, his fingers scratching at Rick's forearm, and Rick wondered what the fuck he'd ever seen in this man, why he'd ever called him a friend, a partner, a brother. 

Daryl shifted behind him, knocking the back of Rick's boot with his own and Rick looked up to find the entire group staring, a mixture of shock and fear and guilt in their eyes. Slowly, Rick released his hold and stepped back, allowing Daryl to give him an arm up. 

"Decide." He demanded, turning from the group to head back into the house where Carl was waiting for him.

"Don't know bout' you guys, but I'd rather follow Rick then this piece of shit," Daryl spat at the others before turning on his heel and walking away; he didn't give a shit what the others did. Daryl went to the porch, sitting down on a step and arched a knee on a step above his other foot. If Merle were here they wouldn't have picked a side, this is when they would steal what they needed from the group and take off during all the chaos.

That had been the plan in the first place; act like they gave a damn, hunted food for the group, and once they earned some trust and got close enough, they would take what they could carry and split. Merle was gone and for once, Daryl could make his own decisions and his own moves, and as much as he was upset that Rick ditched his brother, for some reason, he just had a gut feeling that he could trust him. Not like Shane. Hopefully, the others were smart enough to see that, but Daryl doubted it. 

Shane started over to the porch and Daryl's hand dropped to his knife, placing a hand on the stairs. Ready to strike if Shane tried to get in the house. 

“You want to be Rick's new wing-man? Be my guest," there was an unspoken threat in Shane's tone that Daryl caught onto. Shane walked away from the porch without another word, Daryl watching him the whole time. 

Eventually, the group decided upon who they were going to join. Glenn, Dale and T- Dog decided that they were going to stick with Rick, while Andrea, Carol, Sophia, and Lori decided to join with Shane. Until they could fix up a few of the vehicles from off the highway and take off, they would set up camp on the other side of the farm. 

Daryl got up as everyone else began to move around and knocked on the door to Carl's bedroom which Rick answered, looking at him curiously. 

"How's the kid?" Daryl asked. 

"Better. Hershel thinks he'll wake up soon," Rick informed him and noticed the others moving around. "They make their decision?" Daryl bobbed his head, humming in response. 

"I'm going out to hunt," Daryl muttered, ’will you be alright on your own?' never left his lips, but Rick seemed to understand him. 

“Go, I got things under control," Nodding once more, Daryl turned away and started to walk off. "Daryl?" He looked back over his shoulder at Rick, "Thanks."

"Mhm," he grunted and turned his head back around, the gravel crunching under his boots as he headed to the tree line to hunt down supper. Daryl lowered the crossbow from his arm, keeping it close at hand; he didn't want to bring back more squirrels. He was getting tired of them, honestly. Spotting some deer tracks, Daryl began to follow after them, keeping low and stepping softly. 

The tracks lead deeper into the woods and further from the farm. Finally after what seemed like hours of following the tracks, Daryl found the deer in a clearing. Raising the crossbow, it twanged as he released a bolt, taking down the deer. Stepping out into the clearing, Daryl retrieved his bolt and picked up the limp deer. Behind him he heard a twig snap followed by the sounds of moaning. 

Covering himself with the smell of dead deer, Daryl hid himself until the walker stumbled by and he pulled the knife, sinking it into the back of the corpses head. Pulling the knife free, Daryl cleaned it off and headed back to the farm with the deer on his shoulders. 

Stepping foot back onto the property, Daryl headed back to the group. Spotting Rick by the fire, Daryl walked over to him stepping in the light of the fire. "Got to field dress it, but at least it's not squirrels.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Mind giving me a hand?" Daryl asked Rick; he could do it alone, but it would take a while. Having an extra hand would be helpful. 

"Sure Daryl." Rick seemed shocked that Daryl had come back with a deer, he got up and followed Daryl so they could field dress the deer elsewhere before cooking it up. 

Laying the deer on its back in a clearing of the yard, Daryl found its sternum. He cut into the sternum down to the deer's crotch, penetrating the hide and the membrane below, being careful not to pierce the guts. Pulling the guts out, starting from the crotch, Daryl handed them to Rick for disposal while with his free hand, he cut at the membrane linking the innards to the spine. Daryl did this with precision, not cutting too close to the spine, so not to cut the tenderloins. He continued to pull out the guts and hand them to Rick, who took to throwing them away in a garbage can that he had managed to find while Daryl was cutting away at the deer. Cutting the diaphragm, Daryl expected the blood already, and continued to search for the last membranes holding the cuts within the carcass, severing them and pulled the guts free. 

Cutting through the center of the pelvic bone by pounding his knife through, Daryl grunted lightly at the work, perspiration breaking out along his forehead, and wiped it clean when he got through. Cutting the skin around the anus, Daryl pulled the colon out of the body cavity. Daryl removed the heart, lungs, liver and rest of the intestines and looked up at Rick. "Get the hose," he told the pig, who got up to do so, and even turned it on for Daryl who washed away the blood. Finding a rope, Daryl bound the neck of the deer and hung it from the branch of a tree. When it was secure, Daryl started by making a circular cut around the neck under the rope, and connected the cut with the one made in the stomach during the field dressing. "Grab the hide by the skin," Daryl told Rick, showing him what he meant and the pig followed his lead. "Now pull hard." As they pulled, Daryl used his knife to carefully to cut at the hide so not to puncture the skin. "Stop," Daryl prompted when they got far enough and started to skin just behind the shoulder, prompting Rick to pull again, they did so until they had the hide down to the shoulders. 

The next part was going to be a bitch. Daryl cut off the front legs just above the knees, and from the inside the leg, he cut toward the chest, connecting it with the cut he had made during the field dressing. After working the hide free around the front legs with his knife, he continued to work the hide down the deer's back towards its feet and tail. Once at the tail, Daryl flicked it off with a cut from the knife, cutting through the tailbone and continued until he got the hide down to the tarsal glands and worked on sawing through the leg just before the gland. "Much easier if I had a bone saw," Daryl grunted, but managed to do it; he was exhausted but nowhere close to being done. He cut out the back strap and tenderloins first, then he cut the front legs free, followed by the hindquarters. Working his knife to the ball socket joint holding the hind quarters to the hips, he cut both tendons and then the hindquarters were free. Daryl continued to pull meat out from the ribs and neck and let out an exhausted sigh. 

"That it?" Rick asked and Daryl let out a short laugh and shook his head.

"Gotta butcher up the meat before we can cook it," he said bluntly, "Why don't you do it?" He offered Rick his knife and the pig got to work while Daryl leaned against another tree and rested. 

"We'll have to share this with the others." Daryl wasn't sure if Rick was making a statement or asking his opinion and shrugged his shoulders lightly in response. 

"That's your call," Daryl muttered in response.

Finally, with the meat butchered and ready to cook, Rick and Daryl headed back over to the fire, stabbing the meat through spickets and began to roast the meat over the fire.

Rick and Daryl split up the meat, smoking close to half of it to preserve it. Rick hesitated, taking a good portion of their cooked meat before he turned to Daryl. "I think we need to store this somewhere... somewhere only you and I know about. We should be making preparations for when we hit the road... food, water, extra ammo... You know the drill. By the time we are ready to split up, I highly doubt it's going to be pretty."

"Alright," Daryl nodded his agreement and collected some of the smoked meat, wrapping it up in a towel before securing it with some rope. Rick left Daryl by the fire and went in search for Glenn, Dale and T-dog. He gave them their part of the meat, all three of the men accepted gratefully, with eyes widened. 

"Dude, thanks," Glenn said as he bit into a piece of the meat, licking the juice from his fingers. "We didn't really expect..."

"We're in this together," Rick cut him off, shaking his head. "I meant what I said. I watch out for my people, my team. Daryl... feels the same." 

"Why don't you boys come and join us over here?" Dale asked, waving his hand back to his large RV. "I've got plenty of room, we can use the roof for a look out..." Rick nodded and gave him a small smile. 

"I'll run it by Daryl. Thanks," he clapped Dale on the back and nodded goodbye to Glenn before turning towards the house. Inside he found Hershel by Carl's side, checking the dressing on Carl's shoulder. 

"He woke earlier," Hershel's greeting came, though his eyes never left Carl's chest. "Said the pain wasn't too bad, but I gave him some pain meds anyways."

"Thanks," Rick nodded, moving to Carl's side and taking his son's hand. "So he's doing well?"

"Far as I can tell. Long as he stays on those antibiotics and doesn't pull his stitches... he'll be good, just like new in a few weeks."

"Thank you, really." Rick squeezed Hershel's arm, meeting the older man's eyes. "Look... We, uh, we got a deer earlier... if you and your family need anything..."

Hershel watched him for a moment, his expression guarded before he finally smiled. "Thank you, Rick. The girls and I are all set though, keep that for you and your group. I figure you'll be needed it before too long now... Beth told me what's been going on in the yard. I take it you'll all be moving out before too long?"

"Yeah..." Rick nodded slowly. "Figured we'd taken enough of your time and space now." He gave Hershel a small smile, though he could tell by the expression on the older man's face that it didn't reach his eyes. 

"Well," Hershel sighed, glancing over his shoulder and pausing as if he was listening before he continued. "You've got my family's support, Rick. For some reason I like you, I think you've got a good head on your shoulders... maybe a bit hot headed, but we all have our faults. Maggie and Beth have been spending a lot of time between the members of your group and I've heard more than enough of my fair share to know where my... opinions and loyalties lie. I won't be sad when you all leave, but I know who I will be praying for."

Rick nodded and watched as Hershel finished up his dressing change before he slipped out of the room and left Rick along with Carl. Rick sighed, leaning over so that his head was beside Carl's on the pillow and he squeezed his son's hand. 

"I hope we're making the right choice here, buddy," he said softly, biting on his lower lip. Guilt churned in his stomach as he pictured the conversation he would be having to have with his son soon-- how do you tell your child that you're splitting with his mother in the middle of a fucking apocalypse? That he's probably never going to see her again? He closed his eyes, listening to the steady breathing, the smooth intake of breath from Carl soothing him. Carl would probably be upset... may even refuse to talk to Rick for far longer than Rick will ever be happy with but... 

But Rick would make sure Carl was safe. And in the end, a pissed off but safe Carl was all Rick needed. 

"I'll be back kid." Rick kissed the center of Carl's forehead, the boy shifting in his sleep and Rick smiled. He flicked the light off and slipped from the room, closing the door behind him and slipping back out of the house. Hershel was waiting for him at the front door nodded to Rick once, locking the front door behind him as he left the house. Rick returned back to Daryl, finding him sitting and staring into the fire, a cigarette smoldering between his lips. 

"Hey," Daryl called in greeting, not looking up from the embers. 

"Dale invited us over to where their camp was set up." Rick sat beside him, kicking his legs out before him and crossing his feet at the ankles. "We can look into it tomorrow, if you want." Daryl didn't respond, but Rick knew he'd been heard. They sat together in silence, listening to the crackling of the fire and lost in their thoughts. Rick finally laid on his side, back towards Daryl and the fire and let his eyes fall closed. He'd sleep first, knowing that without saying it Daryl would keep watch. Rick wondered how long he could trust that someone would have his back, but for now, he wasn't going to over analyze things.

Shane watched from a distance as Daryl came back from the woods with a deer on his shoulders. Together, Rick and Daryl field dressed the deer and Shane found himself loathing them both and jealous how two of them were getting along. If he couldn't be Rick's wingman anymore, no one could, and definitely not some douche bag redneck. Shane thought he could run Daryl off, but annoyingly he wasn't going anywhere, and what pissed him off the most was that together? They were better than him.

There had to be another way to take them down.... Andrea came out of her tent and Shane smiled to himself as the idea came to him. "Andrea, come here a moment. I got a job for you!" A look of surprise washed over the blondes face, looking at Shane questionably. 

"For me? Sure, what can I do?" 

"I just saw Daryl bring in a deer for the others and I want to know what else they got hoarded away," Shane began. “If I started poking my nose around it would be too suspicious. But, if it was you, and you pretended that you wanted to join them, no one would question it. "

"You want me to spy on them?" Andrea exclaimed, her eyes searching Shane's. 

"Yes, if you can't do that, what good are ya?" Shane spat coldly. 

"Okay, I'll do it!" Shane knew Andrea craved to prove her worth to everyone, no matter the cost. Which worked to Shane's advantage and he smiled again. 

"I knew I could count on you!" Shane said delightfully, "Go work your magic girl.”

Andrea licked her lower lip, slipping past the back of their camp and moving along the fence line towards the other half of the farm. Her stomach was churning, nerves causing her stomach to flutter. She looked over her shoulder and saw Shane sinking to his knees beside the fire, his eyes trailing after her as she went and she straightened her back, holding her head up higher. If Shane wanted this... she could do this. She smiled at him, even though he probably couldn't see her any longer now that she was in the dark, and turned her focus back ahead.

She let her eyes scan over to the dim firelight of the second camp. Although part of her thought that splitting up in this world where their greatest asset was sticking together, when the choice came down to Shane or Rick? That was a no brainer. Shane was quick on his feet, didn't hesitate to make any major decisions, and was hot as hell. She'd half expected Lori to end up staying with Rick, choosing her son and her family, but Lori surprised her in the end by choosing Shane's side. It didn't matter-- if Andrea could prove herself then Lori wouldn't be an issue for very long. 

From her side, she heard the snapping of twigs and froze, eyes jerking to the right and watching the tree line. She heard the deep, low moaning before she saw it, and then the smell hit her. She swallowed hard, stumbling back a few feet, her heart pounding in her chest. The walker jerked forward, dragging half of its leg and dragging a pile of leaves with it as it drew closer. It's groaning increased, its soul less eyes trained on the area Andrea was standing. Andrea's hand twitched at her side, her hand closing over the hunting knife Shane had handed her before sending her off. 

The walker's entire body jerked the moment it hit the fence, its arms outstretched, reaching for her in the dark. Andrea felt the bile rise to the back of her throat and she tore her eyes away from it, instantly picturing the body of her sister lying dead and ripped apart beneath her. This one wasn't hurting anyone... wasn't going to suddenly climb the fence. She threw one more look at it before turning away and continuing on her trek towards the other group. 

She heard the walker shuffling along behind her, following with her and knocking into the fence as it went. She quickened her pace and burst out into the firelight by Dale's RV, breathing hard by the time she reached them. 

Glenn looked up, concern in his eyes as he looked Andrea up and down. "Are you okay?" He asked, hand falling to his hip where Andrea knew his gun was strapped. 

"Yeah," she nodded quickly. "Yeah, I'm... fine... just don't like being alone, you know?" Glenn nodded carefully, eyes trailing over her shoulder before focusing back on her. "I... Um, they aren't very..." She trailed off but Glenn nodded, seemingly understanding everything she wasn't saying. Andrea hid her smirk as he waved at the seat beside him, offering her some of the meat they had left. This was going to be way too easy.

"Least you came to your senses, Shane's a selfish bastard. Rick and Daryl are already planning on gathering more supplies. What's Shane doing?" T-Dog chuckled lightly, and Andrea had to bite her lounge before she blew her own cover.

"Can I steal you away for a minute T-Dog?" Andrea asked in a sultry tone. She knew that Glenn was infatuated with the farmer’s daughter, so it was likely she wouldn't get to him. T- Dog was the perfect target.

"Yeah... sure." T-Dog got up and followed Andrea around the trailer. "What's up?" Andrea forced tears into her eyes and turned on the mocha colored man. 

"It's just that Shane didn't trust me. Does Rick trust you and Glenn and tell you their plans and where they keep things?" Andrea chocked on her fake tears and T-dog ate it right up. 

"Of course, we're in this together. Look it's not my business to tell you. If you go to Rick and Daryl, I'm sure -" T -Dog cut off suddenly as the walker that had followed Andrea lurched from behind him, piercing his neck with a bite and Andrea's eyes flew wide in surprise as she let out a blood curling scream that rang across the camp.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We apologize for the wait, both Dani and I were participating in Gishwhes this year. Thank you for understanding, and we both hope that you will enjoy this chapter. - Jo

Daryl shot up, dropping the butt of the cigarette to the ground and grabbed his crossbow, kicking at Rick's boot franticly. “Get up!" The pig's eyes fluttered open and his gaze went to Daryl as he pushed himself off the ground.

"What's going on?" Rick demanded but didn't hesitate following after Daryl quickly. 

"Don't know," Daryl shot back, following the sounds of screaming and found Andrea and T - Dog with a walker attached to his neck. Daryl shot a bolt into the walker's skull, freeing T- Dog from the roamers clutches. 

"Shit.” Daryl swore, knowing that they were going to have to put T-Dog down after he turned. Another person lost cause they were too fuckin' stupid to watch their own asses. 

He had seen Andrea and T - Dog go behind the RV and thought nothing about it, if they were out of eyesight it was on them to look after themselves. Not him, or anyone else for that matter.

"What happened?” Rick demanded as T-Dog choked on his own blood unable to do anything about it before he changed. Killing the dead was one thing... but killing someone alive was different. 

"I... I don't know!" Andrea's tone was high and filled with fear and shock. "We... were just talking!” She lied, not admitting it was the walker that had tried to attack her before speaking with T- Dog. "It came out of nowhere!"

"Why are you all just standing there? Someone put him out of his misery!" Dale yelled, jumping in the conversation. A gunshot fired and T-Dog fell lifelessly to the ground. Everyone turned to see where the shot had come from and Shane was standing there.

"Can't protect your people... only took you one night and you're already down a man?" Shane shook his head, clicking the safety on his gun before sliding it into the back of his pants. Behind him, Carol carried Sophia, her hand in Lori's as they approached cautiously.

Rick swallowed hard and tore his eyes away from Shane to look down at T-dog, the pool of blood beneath him spreading out and soaking into the earth. Behind him, Daryl moved back, heading around the back of the group. Rick waited, looking up when Daryl returned, a scowl on his face. 

"Fence was tampered with. Broke through about there." Daryl pointed and Rick followed his finger, moving forward to look at the fence for himself. The fencing had been cut at the main post, just short enough so that it would rest in place but with any amount of pressure, would collapse. Rick felt his blood pressure increase, heat rising to his face and he clenched his fists before stalking back towards the group. 

"You killed someone," he hissed, closing the distance before himself and Shane so they were inches from one another. "You fucking killed someone, and for what? To prove a fucking point?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Shane replied, smirking down at Rick. Rick snapped, letting his fist fly until it connected with Shane's face.

"How could you put someone else's life in fucking danger? For what?" Rick was yelling, moving towards Shane again but Daryl's hand on his arm stopped him. Shane wiped at his lip, chasing the blood with his tongue as he glared back at Rick, eyes hard and cold. 

"You can't protect your people," Shane glared and glanced over at Dale and Glenn who were staring down at T-Dog's body. "You two are more than welcome to join the winning side."

Glenn looked at Shane then, disgust clear on his face. "I am on the winning side," he said softly before turning to Rick to give him a small nod of his head. Dale didn't speak, only turned with Glenn to get a sheet from inside of his RV to take care of T-Dog's body. 

Shane looked furious as he watched them leave and he spun back to Rick, eyes flashing in the dim firelight cast out from the other side of the RV. "Well, won't be long until they're dead too."

"Leave," Rick pointed towards Shane's makeshift camp and then turned his gaze onto Lori. "Take him, and get out of my fucking sight, Lori."

Lori nodded once, dropping Carol's hand and reaching for Shane. He allowed himself to be pulled away, though his stare never left Rick's face. Rick watched them leave, Andrea trailing slowly after them, her entire body shaking. He sighed and saw Carol and Sophia were still standing there, eyes trained on the walker's corpse. Rick crossed over the body, watching Carol's face carefully. 

"You're welcome to stay, if you want," he told her and her eyes flicked up, meeting his. She was timid, shy, but there was a fire burning there that shocked Rick. She cleared her throat and nodded once before she spoke. 

"We'll see." 

"You know where to find us," he shrugged and turned from her. "Daryl?" Daryl came to his side and Rick grabbed a shovel from the back of the RV and tossed it over to the redneck. "I'm gonna fix the fence. You got this?" 

"On it," Daryl nodded and followed to where Glenn and Dale were moving away with T-Dog's body, wrapped tightly in the white sheet. Rick moved towards the fence, eyes scanning the ground and stopping on a knife that was stuck into the ground on the other side. He laughed to himself, shaking his head as he pulled it from the ground. If he had any doubt about the fence, it was gone now. He flipped the blade over, the metal reflecting in the light before he stood and threw it into the woods, satisfied when he heard it strike. 

The sooner they could get the fuck out of there and away from Shane, the better. Shane had changed, and not just because he was too busy screwing with Rick's wife. Rick found a large downed branch easily enough by the tree line and worked quickly to get it in place for the fence. It wouldn't hold for long -- but would work for the rest of the night. He pushed away from the fence and returned back to the fire by the RV. Shane would stop at nothing to bring Rick down, he knew that now. It wouldn't matter how many lives, or whose lives, he wasted in the process. And Rick was more determined than ever to get Carl away from him and Lori. If Lori had chosen that to be with? She wasn't the woman he fell in love with, nor was she fit to be Carl's mother, and hell would freeze over before he let his son go to that.

Daryl walked away from Rick, following after Glenn and Dale, searching for the right place to bury T- Dog's body. The Korean once threw a fit over Daryl trying to burn their people and after that, Daryl hadn't tried to do it again. The kid might have seemed weak, but Daryl could see that there was more to him; he was a quick thinker, and even faster on his feet.

"Here should be good," Glenn said as they came to an opening between two trees. Daryl nodded his head quietly and walked to the area, beginning to scoop the earth into the shovel. Slowly but surely making progress with the grave, he was unable to keep from wondering just how many graves he would have to dig, and how many more people he would have to bury. 

Pulling himself out of the grave, Daryl stepped out of the way, allowing Dale and Glenn to lower T-Dog's body into the ground. 

"We should say something," Glenn said once the body was laid in the ground and they had backed away, stopping Daryl before he could cover the body up. Looking between the two, Daryl chewed on the inside of his cheek, not knowing what to say. Finding the whole idea awkward and useless. Who the fuck was even listening? 

"T-Dog was a good man," Dale solemnly said, speaking first. "He'll be missed dearly." Daryl grunted, agreeing with the words, and Glenn lowered his head allowing himself to cry. When he was sure that no one else was going to say anything, Daryl began to shovel the dirt on the body. 

When they were finished, Daryl walked away with the shovel in hand as Glenn and Dale figured out a way to make a cross for T-Dog's grave. Putting the shovel up, he found Rick and approached him, taking a moment before he spoke. 

"It's probably safe if we stick closer together, least until we can get away from that prick." He told Rick, obviously talking about Shane. “I’ll set up outside the RV tomorrow." It was safer to do things during the day; with the walkers roaming around, and Shane acting the way he was, it was hard to figure which was the most danger. 

"Maybe someone should keep an eye on Shane. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid, “Daryl suggested, more than willing to be the one that watched out for the other pig. Rick's emotions might have get to him if he heard something that would fire up his temper. 

"Alright,” Rick answered shortly, his thoughts a million miles away from what Daryl was saying to him. Without another word, Daryl walked away from Rick and headed over to the side of the farm, finding a spot that Shane wouldn't spot him in and crouched down, staring intensely at the tent a few feet in front of him. 

The majority of the rest of the evening was uneventful, at one point Rick came up behind Daryl. 

"Hey, why don't you get some rest?" Daryl shook his head shortly. "I need you to be focused, not sleep deprived. I will be fine." Daryl doubted that, but that stern tone was back in Rick's voice and Daryl just knew he wouldn't win the argument. 

"You need anything, come get me," Daryl muttered as he stood to his feet and faced Rick. The former officer nodded his head once and Daryl walked off, heading back over to the RV. 

Glenn and Dale were already sleeping inside, Daryl found a spot next to the fire pit and laid down on the grass, hands tucked behind his head. Staring at the stars above him in the sky for a few minutes, feeling his eyelids begin the drift closed. 

Soon, falling asleep much quicker then Daryl had expected himself too.

The rest of the night passed by and the moment he saw the sun starting to rise over the back of the farm, Rick picked himself up from the ground and picked his way back over to his side of the farm. It wouldn't do well for them to get caught watching Shane and his group -- he'd have to talk to Daryl about keeping an eye out around their area. One of them would have to be on guard at all times. Rick knew he could theoretically get Glenn or Dale involved-- either man would be more than willing to help out if asked. But somehow, Rick knew it would freak them out to think that Shane was purposefully trying to sabotage them and he didn't need them joining Shane and his ridiculous ways because they were afraid of him.

Daryl was different -- he wouldn't be scared that easily, he would give hell right back if it came down to it. Rick could admit that he was grateful it was his side that Daryl decided to choose. The bowman was not one he'd ever want to seriously piss off. Briefly, Rick wondered if Daryl was playing him... He had left his brother at the top of that building, and although he'd made the trek back with Daryl to rescue Merle, that didn't necessarily mean that all was forgiven. 

Rick walked into the camp, seeing Daryl laying with his head resting on a backpack, his bow on his chest and already loaded. His eyes were closed, but Rick knew he was awake. He entertained the idea of asking him, only for a moment, before shaking it away. 'Hey, Daryl, you still pissed I might have killed your brother and are you secretly planning on taking revenge by staking me out for the walkers?' Yeah. Not going to happen. 

"You moved your stuff," he said instead and Daryl opened one eye to look at him. 

"Yup," he answered and shut his eyes again. Rick cleared his throat and stirred the fire, looking up when the RV doors opened. 

"Hershel was looking for you," Dale said as he came to sit by the fire. He had a can of beans with him and poked a hole in the top before shoving it into the coals. "Something about Carl--"

Rick was already on his feet, glancing down at Daryl who nodded once and was already pushing himself into a sitting position. First watch -- Daryl had it covered. 

Rick made his way over to the house, knocking once before he pushed the door open without waiting for a response. He walked down the hallway quickly, heading straight for the front room that had been Carl's hospital room for the past week and a half and shoved into the door with his shoulder.

"Dad!" Carl was awake, propped up on pillows, and smiling the moment he saw his Dad enter the room.

"Carl!" Rick fell onto the side of the bed, arms immediately going around Carl's body and pulling him against his chest. Although he'd known Carl had woken up before, here and there for sips of water and bites of food, actually hearing his son's voice? Rick didn't bother to hide the tears as they spilled from his eyes. "Carl, god, Carl..."

"I'm okay, Dad," Carl mumbled against Rick's shirt, small hands squeezing around his Dad's back. "Where's Mom?"

"Buddy..." Rick trailed off, pulling back and wiping his son's long hair back from his eyes. He helped Carl settle back into the pillows, checking that he was comfortable and happy and that he didn't need anything. Carl sighed, and asked the question again, pushing away Rick's hands when he moved to adjust the pillows again. "Alright.... alright..." Rick relented and pulled his hands into his lap, sighing once. "We've got to talk, little man..."

Daryl noticed movement from the other side of the farm, and Lori stepped out of the tent as he pushed himself to his feet, approaching the brunette women. "You might want to go inside," he told her. Though Lori and Rick were at odds, she had the right to know about her son.

Daryl didn't blame her for the stupid shit Shane did. Lori didn't need him to say more and rushed off inside. But the moment Shane stepped out and headed for the house, Daryl stepped in his way, placing a hand in his chest. "Not you."

"You going to stop me?" Shane snapped darkly, slapping Daryl's hand away. 

"Damn right." Daryl didn't budge. 

"I don't understand you Daryl, I thought you hated Rick for leaving your brother behind! Now you’re suddenly on his side?" Shane remarked, narrowing his eyes. "You should be with me. Not with Rick."

Usually, Daryl would have told the pig he didn't have to explain himself, but he was stalling Shane from going inside. "I ain't gonna pretend my brother's not a dick. Merle got his ass left on that roof because he was being a tool. No one's fault but his own!"

It had taken some time for Daryl to figure that out, but now that he did; Daryl was going to have Ricks back, for at least trying to go back for Merle. No one else would have risked their lives for an asshole like Merle. And, honestly, Daryl didn't blame them either; his older brother had never played nice with others, including Daryl. Rick had done right by him, and Daryl was happy to repay the favor. 

"So what, now you're Rick's little bitch?" Shane smirked and Daryl landed a punch to the pig's jaw. Watching him stumble back was more than satisfying. 

"I ain't no bodies bitch," Daryl growled darkly, glaring Shane down. 

"Rick thinks so, why do you think he always asks you to do things for him?" Shane asked, still trying to cause a rift through the two as he cradled his jaw. Or get Daryl to walk away so he could get to the house, but still the redneck didn't budge or let up in the slightest. 

"You don't fuckin' get it," Daryl scoffed at Shane, deciding not to explain it. He didn't have too, Rick and him, they did things for each other. Whether it was spoken or not, they understood each other and they both knew what needed to be done. It was simple, really. 

"I understand perfectly,” Shane gritted his teeth, "I was his partner too once, remember? You see what he did to me. What do you think he'll do to you?" 

"I'm nothin' like you, Shane. I wouldn't betray someone that trusted me, or fuck their wife!" Shane struck Daryl in the jaw with a fist, and the redneck spat on the ground. 

"You don't know shit, you inbred piece of-"

"That's enough!" Rick's voice shouted and Daryl turned his head noticing that in his arms was Carl. Shane exhaled slowly, and rubbed his head. 

"Hey buddy, glad to see you up and about." His tone changed so fast it made Daryl's head spin and he shot a final look at Shane, knowing exactly why he was doing it. 

Looking back at the boy, Daryl backed down, relieved to see that he was still alive, he then looked at Rick and gave him a nod of his head.

Rick felt Carl shift in his arms, the boy giving Shane a small smile.

"Excuse us," Rick said as he finished moving down the stairs. Shane opened his mouth to speak, but Rick cut him off. "Carl's awake, but he's still pretty tired. No company now." He nodded once more at Daryl and turned his back on Shane to head back towards their camp area. Lori appeared at the top of the steps, tears shining her eyes. Rick gave her one glance, swallowing hard before he turned from her and walked away. He didn't need to turn to know that Daryl was following after him and if he strained his ears, he could hear Shane talking quickly to Lori.

"Carl!?" Dale's eyes widened as he saw the three of them approach and he was instantly on his feet. 

"Do you mind?" Rick asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"Of course not! Please!" Dale moved around the fire pit and opened up the door to the trailer, holding it open for Rick to step inside. He carried Carl over to one of the beds and laid him down gently. "You okay, buddy?" he asked, giving his son a small smile. 

"Yeah... I'm good," Carl gave him a smile back, fighting back the grimace on his face. 

"I've got some pain killers... but there's not many. Do you want me to give you half of one?" 

"I think I'm okay right now, Dad... We're not going to be moving around, right?"

"No, you're going to stay in here and get some rest. I promised Hershel that I would make sure that you stayed in bed and that you could do that in the RV just as well as in the house. He told me that if he saw you up and about he would make you come back into the house."

"But Dad... I want to help..." Carl whined and Rick smiled, despite himself. Sometimes he had to remind himself how young his son actually was... Rick reached forward, slowly carding his fingers through Carl's long hair and pushing it back from his face. 

"You can help when you're healed, okay Buddy? I'll be expecting it."

"Okay, Dad," Carl nodded, his eyelids fluttering as he fought to keep himself awake. Rick chuckled to himself and counted back from ten until Carl was completely asleep again. From the door of the RV, Daryl walked up the steps and handed over a blanket Rick had seen Daryl use at night. He met Daryl's eyes and Daryl gave him a look telling him not to argue and to just accept. 

"Thanks," Rick whispered, taking the blanket and spreading it out over Carl's body and tucking it gently in around his shoulders. He itched to stay there, running his fingers through his son's hair, wathing him breathe and sleep so he knew he was there and real and alive, but he knew there were things he had to take care of and he would prefer Carl to be asleep for them. He kissed the top of Carl's head once and then motioned for Daryl to leave with him. Daryl closed the RV door behind them and they joined Dale and Glenn at the fire. 

"So," Glenn said after a moment, shifting in the camping chair he was sitting in and poking at the fire. 

"Carl is awake," Rick said as he stared into the fire. He closed his eyes and let himself think about the fight he had with Lori inside of Hershel's dining room.

_"You're not taking my son from me!" Lori screamed, fists tightening at her sides. "Shane can take care of him, just as good as you! He'll be safe. Shouldn't you be happy about that?"_

_"Are you kidding Lori? You want me to give up my son to a group of people who would no sooner shove him to the walkers than protect him? I know you and Shane, I've seen it. You're weak, have no loyalty or respect for anyone other than yourselves, and I'm not handing my son over to that!"_

_"He won't go with you! I won't let him!"_

_"I didn't choose this, Lori. You did. You made this happen."_

_"I would do it all over again, too." Lori hissed, closing the distance between them. "I've loved Shane for a while Rick, and all he's ever wanted was to be my family, Carl's family."_

_"Is that why he shot me in the field?" Rick whispered, swallowing hard as he put the pieces together. The look that crossed Lori's face was all he needed for confirmation._

_"He... he didn't. It was the--"_

_"My back was turned, but I'm not an idiot, Lori." He watched as the fury fled into her face, and for a moment he wondered how he ever found her attractive... She opened her mouth, but stopped short when a third voice spoke._

_"I want to go with my Dad." Carl was standing in the door way, knees shaking with the effort and Rick was immediately at his side, helping him to stand. "I choose, Dad."_

"Carl is awake, and we need to make plans to move out." Rick looked up, looking at the three men around the fire, each one nodding in turn.

There was a sense of relief that came from Rick now that Carl was up and about, even though the boy was still in recovery. One less thing to worry about, but there was now another pressing matter. 

“Shane plans to go to Fort Benning," Rick pointed at the map, “I am thinking we go the opposite direction, and see what we can find." It wasn't much of a plan, but at least it was a start.


	4. Chapter 4

Rick and Daryl were both gone; Rick on a supply run and Daryl had left a few minutes to go hunting for food. Proving, once more to Shane, how incapable they were to take care of Carl. Lori and he would never leave the kid alone-- not when he was healing like he was, unable to defend himself or provide for himself. Hell, the kid was just that, a fucking kid. He hadn't even seen Rick trying to show him how to shoot or defend himself. Honestly, the kid was going to be more fucking work than he would be worth. But then Lori had to drop the bomb on him that she was pregnant. He wanted to strangle her at that. Who the fuck got pregnant during a goddamn apocalypse? At least they could use the kid to take care of the baby. Shane had always wanted a family-- the wife, kids, house and yard, the whole nine. Apparently life thought it would be funny to give him that in a world where 'life' didn't exist anymore. 

He stalked around the back of the house, looking towards the tree line to see if the Redneck was anywhere nearby. Only Dale was with Carl now, he realized. Glenn's stupid army backpack that he always took on runs were gone, so he must have gone with Rick. He made his way over to the camp, ready for Daryl to come stalking out of the woods or the old man to come around the corner at any minute. Gratefully, he was met with silence. Shane didn't actually know where Dale was, not that it mattered much. What was the old man gonna do to stop him? Approaching the RV in a cocky manner, he popped open the door and entered the unit, going to the back room where Carl laid in the bed sound asleep. 

He could already see the look of joy on Lori's face. Since Carl had woken up, she'd been fucking crying herself to sleep every single night because the kid had chosen Rick. He half wanted to remind her that so did _she_ before this shitstorm had happened. Their affair had been cut short soon after Carl had been born, and another spike of hate ran through him. Rick, always fucking Rick. Everyone always chose him. Not that Rick had _anything_ Shane didn't have... 

Shane stared down at the sleeping boy and rubbed at his head. It didn't matter anymore, he would get Carl, he got Lori, and he'd managed to pilfer half of the camp he was now standing in while Rick had been distracted with Carl in the farm house. They were set, ready to put this farm in their rearview mirror the moment he scored the kid. Lowering down, he was just about to scoop the boy in his arms when he felt himself being pulled around. Dale's blue eyes were wide and angry, and the old man shot a quick fist at Shane, striking Shane's cheek and started to yank him back out of the RV. 

"You are not welcome in my RV," the old man hissed. It wasn't hard for Shane to break the weaker man's grip and he lunged on Dale, wrapping his hands around Dale's throat cutting off his airway. A choking gag left the old man's lips and he gripped at the hands tightened around his throat, trying to loosen the grip. Tears stinging in his eyes and garbled words fell from his mouth. 

"Stop it!" A smaller voice belonging to Carl caught Shane's attention and he automatically let go, backing off. Giving Carl an apologetic look, rubbing his head, he stepped back towards the kid. 

"Hey, buddy, you're awake!"

"You. Need. To. Leave. Now. I am telling my Dad about this!" Shane flinched, not because he was afraid of Rick, but because of the venom in Carl's tone. The kid had never actually _hated_ him before and he wondered just what lies Rick had poured into the kids head... Throwing a glare at Dale, Shane stepped over the old man gasping and coughing on the ground and stormed out of the RV, slamming the door behind him. This wasn't over, not even close. He had to get Carl to see that he and his mother were better suited to take care of him, better than an old man and the band of losers his Dad had occupied...

"Glenn!" Rick whispered, motioning the younger man over as he pressed his back against the side of the building they were scouting out. Glenn appeared at his side, giving Rick a quick nod and letting him know he would cover Rick. Together, they crept around the front of the building, picking their way through the debris that littered the sidewalk, until they came to the front door of the shop. They'd already gone through the small grocery store, scoring a few cans of food, and were now at the little pharmacy. 

Rick was grateful and also wary that they hadn't come across any walkers as of yet. The doors to the grocery store had been stuck open by an upturned rack of shopping carts, and if there had been any walkers inside? They were long gone. Rick was also surprised at how much he appreciated the young Asian's company. Glenn was quick on his feet, smart and resourceful. He had already known that from their first run together in Georgia, but the man hadn't stopped impressing him since then.

Glenn turned his body towards the street, his eyes scanning up and down as Rick pressed his face up against the murky glass, trying to peer inside. "I can't see anything," he whispered, but they both knew that meant nothing. "Was there a door around back?"

"Employee exit. Opens out and the way is clear. No handle from the back..." Rick nodded and took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before exhaling slowly. 

"Alright, let's do this." 

It was a hit or miss -- usually a hit -- on whether or not a door would be opened. If it was locked, that meant that someone had tried to protect themselves and was more than likely still inside in their decomposing undead form. If it was unlocked... well... it was unlocked. The pharmacy door was stuck from months of disuse and grime, but with a good, quick tug, it creaked open, alerting anything nearby of their presence. Beside him, Glenn held up his blade before him, poised and ready for anything that may be coming through the door. 

They waited, listening, barely breathing, before Rick dared to pull open the door completely so they could slip inside. 

The pharmacy was a mess -- racks and shelves were overturned, supplies strewn across the floor. But, from what Rick could tell, it was quiet. Maybe they were in luck... Rick pointed to the left side of the storefront and Glenn nodded, turning in that direction, eyes already scanning the upturned products on the floor for anything they might need. Rick turned towards the right, hoping he could at least find some Tylenol or something incase Carl ended up with a fever or his pain started to come back... 

He found a large bottle, two shelves in and bit back the triumphant cry. He picked it up, shoving it in the shoulder bag he was carrying and couldn't fight back the smile. Maybe things were starting to look up. 

A shout from across the room quickly wiped the smile from his face and he threw himself around the shelving unit he was searching to make his way across the store. Glenn was sitting against the wall, breathing hard, a streak of black-colored blood across his cheek. 

"Careful of the shelves," Glenn motioned with his hand and Rick looked down to see the walker Glenn had killed was half pinned to the ground, his long, decrepit fingers wrapped tightly around Glenn's ankle and a knife sticking out of the back of his head. 

"Noted." Rick replied, reaching his hand down to help Glenn to his feet. Things were looking up -- at least neither one of them was dead.

Daryl wanted to keep the deer meat they had saved but they still had to eat something. Especially Carl, who needed the nutrition for strength. Squirrels weren't enough though, so Daryl figured he could try to catch some fish in the lake he had spotted on the map. There were more walkers then usual out in the woods, and Daryl had to be careful as he crept through, taking them down using his knife instead of his bolts. 

Coming to the lake, Daryl waded into the water slowly and waited patiently, shallowing out his breath as he waited for the fish to come swimming back to him. In a quick movement, he brought down a bolt, piercing the fish with the tip. Removing the fish from the bolt, he tossed the fish to the shore and Daryl continued to spear the fish in the lake until he had managed to get a large pile. 

Walking out of the water, Daryl bundled up the fish with a net he'd brought and picked them up before he headed back to the farm. Taking out the walkers on the way back, he made a mental note to tell Rick about the strange amount of walkers that were in the woods. 

Entering the RV, when he had made it back safely, he found Carl bent over Dale on the ground. "What happened?" he asked, quickly joining Carl. 

"Shane broke in and attacked Dale when he tried to kick him out, " Carl explained and Daryl had to hold back his temper. 

"You okay?" he asked Carl who gave him a nod. Daryl helped Dale to his feet, looking him over. 

"I'm fine," Dale assured. "He's out of control," Dale muttered, obviously talking about Shane. 

"Rick and I will handle him," Daryl said evenly, trying to keep his anger from his voice. 

"I'm going to keep my eye out for Rick," Dale said and left Daryl and Carl alone in the RV and slipped outside. Daryl shifted on his feet and lowered the fish on the table, clearing his throat. "You ever gutted a fish?" Carl shook his head at the question. "I'll show you."

Daryl motioned for Carl to take a seat and when he did, Daryl slid in beside him. Handing the knife to Carl, Daryl closed his hand over Carl's smaller one to carefully show the boy how to cut the fish up, remove the guts and bones from the inside. "Now you try," he said, letting Carl do it by himself while watching him carefully. 

Daryl beamed at Carl, removed the Sherriff’s hat from his head, and ruffled his hair. "You're pretty good at that," he praised when Carl had done it correctly and Carl smiled back at Daryl. 

"Thanks." Both of their eyes flicked to the door upon hearing it open and Rick stepped inside the RV. “Dad!" Carl exclaimed and Daryl moved out of his way, letting to boy go to his father to give him a hug. "Daryl showed me how to gut a fish!"

"Did he now?" Rick asked with a soft smile, looking at Daryl who gave him a nod of the head. "Why don't you finish up so I can talk to Daryl, okay?" Carl nodded and excitingly went back to gutting the rest of the fish. Once Carl sat down, Daryl followed Rick outside, closing the door behind him. 

"Dale told me he had a run in with Shane," Rick stated and Daryl grunted in response with a nod of his head. 

"Told Dale we'd talk to Shane once you got back," Daryl admitted. "How it turn out?"

"Better than expected," Rick said lightly and motioned Daryl to follow him to the other side of the farm.

Rick exhaled slowly as he walked beside Daryl across the farm. He could feel his blood boiling as he thought of Shane and Dale's story. How _dare_ Shane come and try to take Carl like that. The moment he'd walked back into camp and seen the look on Dale's face along with his bloodied knuckles and bruising neck, he barely had to ask what the hell happened. He'd already known. Glenn dropped their supplies to the table and immediately was at Dale's side. 

He checked on Carl, making sure his son was okay, and then walked to the edge of the camp with Daryl. It was decided quickly that something needed to happen, and they already knew they were the ones to do it. Rick had loaded his pistol, directed Glenn to unload what he could away in the RV so it was protected and kept safe, and then they were off. They were halfway across the farm yard now when Rick's stomach twisted. 

"I don't know what to do," Rick said suddenly, stopping both he and Daryl in their tracks. He turned to the redneck and shook his head. "What the hell am I supposed to do about Shane?"

"What do you mean?" Daryl asked, cocking his head to the side as he met the sheriff’s eyes. He turned his body to Rick and Rick was suddenly glad he'd found an unlikely friend throughout all this crap. They barely knew each other, but already Daryl had Rick's back better than Shane ever had. Rick needed to know what Daryl thought... the archer's opinion _mattered_. 

"He's a destructive force. He's hell bent on destroying everything that means anything to me." Rick sighed, biting down on his lower lip. "You know what I really want to do?" 

"What?" Daryl pressed, turning away from Rick and looking ahead of them where they could see Lori and Shane talking in hushed voices over their fire, avoiding even Carol and Andrea who were sitting close by, trying to appear like they weren't trying to listen. 

Rick chuckled, the sound cold and clipped before he answered honestly, "I want to kill him. In a world where every fucking thing is against us, I want to kill someone alive. What the hell does that make me?" he whispered, turning his head to study Daryl's expression. 

Daryl stared at Rick for a while and shrugged his shoulders lightly. "I dunno...." he began slowly. ”I don't think that makes you a bad person," Daryl said slowly, as if he was still piecing it all together. "When we were back at the pharmacy _we_ killed those guys. We had too, you know that as much as I do." Daryl paused for a moment and Rick nodded slowly. "If we don't do something about Shane, he won't stop. He'd kill you if he had a chance... in a heartbeat. You said you were willing to die for your son, right?" Rick nodded his head, and Daryl continued. "Prove it, cause in the end? It's gonna be you, or him. Just how things are now. Sometimes we have to kill the living, to keep surviving; not for us, but for our group. For Carl." 

Rick nodded once, letting Daryl's words roll around in his head. Part of him knew that Daryl was right -- it was past the point where Shane could be anything but good or a resource to their group. He was a threat, to Rick and therefore to Carl. What he'd said was completely true: Shane was selfish, and he would do anything and everything he could to make sure he was the one on top. Right now, he wanted Lori and Carl. But the moment they got in his way? Rick knew in his heart Shane wouldn't hesitate to eliminate any threat towards himself. 

Rick exhaled slowly. If he were to be completely honest... This Shane wasn't all that different from the old world Shane. In this new world, Shane had nothing to bind him or hold him back, no rules to strap him down or control him. If there was anyone here that knew Shane the best? Rick was it. Years, wasted. That's exactly how Rick felt now. He'd spent years at Shane's side, trusting and depending on the other man to have his back. When he'd first woken up in that goddamn hospital, he knew that if Shane was still alive? Lori and Carl were safe with him and he'd been relieved and held onto the fact to get him through. 

But Shane was never... never truly the friend Rick wanted to believe he was. "Alright," Rick said finally, rolling his shoulders and running his hand over the butt of his pistol. "You with me?" Rick asked Daryl, really hoping that Daryl wasn't going turn on him now. After everything they had done- and what they were about to do. 

Daryl gave Rick a bob of the head. "M' with you." A smile touched Rick's lips, not feeling like Daryl would lie to him, the archer had never done it before. Rick clapped Daryl on the back, squeezing his shoulder tightly before facing forwards again. He felt Daryl shift beside him, adjusting the strap of his bow over his shoulder, and Rick nodded once more before he spoke. 

"Let's go."

Shane spotted Rick and Daryl approaching and he pushed himself from the tree he had been leaning against to meet the two half way. Shane saw the way Carol and Andrea instantly tensed as the two women turned their gaze upon the approaching men and in order to keep up his appearance, that he actually gave a damn about the others that had chosen his side, he squeezed both woman on the shoulder as he passed, giving them a reassuring smile. Lori moved to follow him and Shane shook his head, causing her to stop short. Lori was maybe the one exception, so long as she kept giving Shane what he wanted and continued being easy to have by his side. 

"You came in _our_ camp, tried to take _my_ son, and attacked Dale?" Rick demanded, furious, not bothering to keep his tone lowered. "You honestly think you can do whatever you want?" 

"You gonna stop me Rick? Or you gonna fetch your new pet to do your dirty work for you?" Shane threw Daryl a cocky grin and he growled, stepping forward, only to be held back by Rick's hand pressing against his chest. “My, you sure know how to tame your bitches don't you?" Rick didn't even dignify that with a response, instead he threw a fist; Shane barley dodged the strike and upper cut Rick in the gut. 

A gasp of air left Rick's lips and he found himself on his knees on the ground. Daryl was there, jumping in and successfully landing a shot to Shane's face. Shane stammered back from Rick, turning on Daryl, his eyes flickering dangerously. With Shane's back on Rick, and advancing on Daryl, he didn't notice Rick clamber to his feet. Shane drew his gun, aiming it at Daryl, who extended his arms daring Shane to take a shot. 

"You gonna shoot me, Pig? Best pray you shoot me in the head!" Daryl snapped, not showing any fear to Shane. 

Shane's finger grazed against the trigger, curling around the small piece of metal and lifting the pistol up to aim at Daryl's face. Shane sneered. This piece of shit had no right to come into _his_ camp, fuck with _his_ business and then _insult_ him. 

He waited, waited for the sharp intake of breath, the realization in the eyes that this moment would be the last, inevitable for anyone, no matter how brave they wanted to pretend to be. This wasn't the first man Shane had killed, and he sure as hell wouldn't be the last. As he flexed his finger and pulled the trigger in, Shane's arm was ripped sideways and the shot rang out, going wide as Rick's hands clamped down on his forearm hard. 

Daryl moved quickly, elbowing Shane's nose and hearing it snap, a pained scream echoing across the farm; the gun fell from Shane's grip and onto the ground at their feet. 

"Stop it!" Someone yelled, but all Shane could see was red, he went for Rick's revolver that laid in the holster attached to his belt. Gripping the butt of the gun, he was about to tug when he heard another yell; this one breaking the fight up. 

"Walkers!" All three of the men stopped in place, their gaze shifting, focusing on the large herd coming down upon the farm. 

Drawn in by the gunshot and the scream that had left Shane's lips, Rick automatically loosened his grip on Shane, shoving him forward. "Daryl warn Hershel and the girls! I'll get Carl! We'll meet back at the RV!" The redneck took off without a second to spare and Rick gave Shane one last look before he was running back towards the RV, his pistol drawn in his left hand and his dagger raised in his left. 

"Fuck!" Shane swore, twisting his body to shove himself up off the ground. "Move!" he hollered, running towards Lori's side and grabbing her arm to spin her around. "Car, now!"

Rick threw himself against the door of the RV, stabbing the walker blocking the door and kicking it away as if fell into a heap at his feet. He ripped the door open, eyes wide as he scanned the trailer for Carl. "Carl?" he screamed, throwing himself down the small hallway to the back, throwing open the curtain to the bedroom and the bathroom door. "Carl?"

"Dad!" Rick's head snapped up and he spun back around towards the door. 

"Where are you?" Rick demanded, heart beating in his chest when he realized that Carl wasn't in the RV. He fought through three more walkers that had come to the RV from his yelling and clambered up onto the picnic table. "Carl?"

"Dad!" Rick looked up and saw Carl on his hands and knees on top of the RV, Dale sitting beside him with a shotgun aimed and ready, pointed to the end of the RV. 

"He's okay, Rick!" Dale gave Rick a quick nod before he turned his attention back to the farm yard. "What the plan, Rick?"

"Where's Glenn? We've got to move."

"He was with Maggie, Hershel's daughter... Not sure where they went off too." Rick swore under his breath and turned towards the back fence behind the house, swearing again when he saw how many walkers were swarming the back of the house. He couldn't even count how many there were... They couldn't wait for Glenn. 

"We need to move, now!" Rick jumped from the table, pointing a finger at Carl to tell him to wait on the top of the RV until he was ready for him, and turned to start chucking things from their camp into the opened trailer. Dale made his way down, his shot gun firing off twice. Rick ran to the other side of the RV, slamming his blade into the skull of the remaining walker, and Dale gave him a nod in thanks. "Get in the RV. You've got the supplies. We'll follow you."

Dale nodded and ran into the RV, slamming and locking the door behind him. Rick climbed the ladder quickly, motioning for Carl to come to the edge. "Let's go buddy, we got to be quick, okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." Carl nodded and followed after his dad, sticking close to his side as they made their way to the other side of the camp where the cars were parked. 

"First one, get into it." Rick ordered, firing off three shots to kill the walkers in their path -- noise didn't matter now. There was no way for them to move undetected, not when they were this grossly outnumbered. "Go!" Carl bolted before him, ripping open the backdoor of the first car they came to and throwing himself in. Rick ran after him and then stopped cold. Both tires he could see were slashed. He ran around the car, and then spun to the next. "You've got to be fucking kidding me!" 

He should have shot Shane, should have just drawn and shot point blank through Shane's stupid fucking head. Most of the walkers seemed to be on the other side of the house, heading towards a screaming Andrea, but Rick knew it wouldn't be long before they were all over the land. He ripped the door open and reached for Carl, giving him a sad smile when he saw how Carl's hand was rubbing over his shoulder. 

"I'm sorry, buddy," Rick's voice broke but Carl shook him off and slipped from the car. The sound of the RV starting up made Rick's stomach flip and he was powerless as Dale drove off, plowing down walkers and the fence that was in his path to get to the road. He probably expected that Rick would be right behind him... "We gotta go on feet buddy, I'll carry you?"

"No, you need your hands." Carl shook his head quickly and reached for the spare gun Rick had behind his back, tucked into his pants. Carl flicked off the safety, curled his hands around the butt and wrapped his finger around the trigger. "Glenn's been showing me..."

Rick didn't have time to even consider being mad or impressed; he nodded and shoved Carl forward, eyes scanning the best path for them to take. Another blood curdling scream came from across the yard and Rick watched in horror as Carol threw herself between a walker and her daughter, the scene suddenly becoming nothing more than blood in a matter of seconds. Rick swallowed hard, reaching for Carl's good shoulder and pulling him in.

"Stay close," he demanded, not needing to look at Carl to see if he understood. They pushed forward, every time Carl shot off the pistol, Rick's heart jumped to his throat and he fought back congratulating his son, knowing they needed to push forward. They could talk after, later, when they survived. 

"Dad!" Carl screamed and Rick turned in time to see Shane peeling towards them, cutting the wheel of the Ford he was driving and causing Rick and Carl to jump back. Lori was screaming something at him, but Shane ignored her and pulled out of the farm. The moment's pause allowed the walkers from behind them to catch up and Rick moved quickly to kill as many as he could and push away from them with Carl at his side. "Dad..." Carl whispered and Rick knew that voice, knew that his son had already give up. 

"We're gonna be.... fine!" Rick grunted, slamming his knife into the skull of another walker, taking a step back again. There were six on them now, more closing in, and he knew there were only one shot in his pistol and maybe two in Carl's. "It's gonna be fine," he whispered again and looked down at the gun. The walker was no way to die, no way to go out or to be stuck in after death had claimed one's mind... Rick eyed his son, his eyes wide and filled with tears, and his fingers twitched against the trigger. He couldn't let Carl become one of them... not his son, not his baby boy... "Carl, come here." Rick said, reaching for his son and pulling him in against his chest. "Close your eyes buddy, okay?"


	5. Chapter 5

Daryl reached for his blade and let out an exasperated growl as he remembered he had left it with Carl in the RV. Sliding the bow from his shoulder blade, Daryl used the blunt end to smash against the walkers’ skulls. He watched as they caved in on impact and he made his way to the porch, bounding up the steps before pounding relentlessly at the door until it was opened. 

"Herd," Daryl breathed out. "Ain't no use in staying, we gotta go. Now!" 

"Do what you need to, this is my farm. If I'm gonna die, it's gonna be on my own land." Hershel spoke in a calm tone as he grabbed a rifle that Daryl was surprised to find in his possession. Stubborn old fool was going to get him and his family killed; but it was their choice. " Go on!" Hershel exclaimed and Daryl searched the old man with his eyes before backing away. 

"Stubborn old fool," he said under his breath and turned around. A gunshot fired from behind him and took down the walker that was trying to clamber it's way up the steps. Glancing back over his shoulder at Hershel, Daryl stepped over the corpse at his feet and looked toward the RV. 

Walkers were everywhere, making it hard to get a clear view of the RV. He couldn't waste time standing there and gawking at the herd, not with them closing in around him quickly. The lot of them all riled up and hungry, it was suicidal to try to think he could go straight through the herd. 

It was impossible on foot, with only his bow as a weapon he'd run out of bolts or be too busy swinging at a walker while another clamped its teeth into him. Daryl rounded the farmhouse instead, taking out the walkers that crossed his path along the way. 

Daryl could hear the blood curdling screams from the opposite side of the farmhouse and the squeals of tires tearing into the driveway as they took off. Mounting his bike, Daryl was forced to use a bolt to take down a walker that had made its way around the back of the house and was starting to close in on him quick. 

Turning over the engine, Daryl revved up the bike, taking the walkers that were behind him on a wild goose chase around the farm. Taking the long way around to get back to the RV, he knew deep down that if he was going to make his move and leave Rick and the others to their own fate, now was the time. 

Could he really live with that on his conscience that he had abandoned them? That he had abandoned Rick after giving the sheriff his word that he was with him, after building trust between them? Just to leave him, and possibly his kid, to be ripped apart by walkers. 

Though Rick had basically done the same thing to Merle, his older brother had managed to escape; even if it had meant cutting off his hand in the process. There was no real proof that he was dead... 

Daryl couldn't do that, he couldn't just leave them for dead. No one deserved to die that way, and he didn't want to be remembered as someone that had betrayed a friend. Rick Grimes… friend.... yeah… That still was strange for him to swallow. 

Driving back onto the farm, Daryl weaved in and out of the walkers, avoiding the hands that grabbed for him. If he was going to die, might as well be for a good reason. And that reason was saving Rick and his son. He saw them, pinned down by a group of walkers that were pressing closer. Rick held Carl in his arms, revolver pressed to Carl's temple. 

Before he could squeeze the trigger, Daryl pulled out his own gun, shooting down the walkers surrounding them. When a path was clear, he rolled his bike in front of Rick and Carl, giving him a nod. 

"Get on!" 

"What about Carl?" Rick asked and Daryl held out his arms. Rick didn't hesitate handing him over. Daryl wrapped the boy around him and Rick climbed onto the back. Just before the walkers could press down on top of them again, Daryl was driving them to freedom. It was quickly determined they were unable to go in the same direction that the RV had left, knowing that another group of walkers was following behind them. 

"You came back for us?" Rick yelled in Daryl's ear, sounding shocked, and Daryl threw him a quick look before he turned his gaze back to the road.

"Told you I was with you didn't I?" he shot back. Now was not the time to be having this conversation. They weren't safe - they weren't in the clear. They could have this discussion later, when there weren't walkers chasing their asses down.

Rick focused on the pavement beneath them, the salt and peppered pavement that was streaking by them as Daryl ripped down the highway. He focused on the feeling of Daryl’s back, firm against his chest, and the fact that with his arms around Daryl’s middle, he could reach and hold onto Carl as well. He focused on the rumbling of the engine and the thunderclouds overhead. 

It was going to rain. 

Although it shouldn’t have been surprising, Rick honestly expected to leave the farm on his own terms, when his son was ready, and with more supplies than he knew he and Daryl had on their persons. So he focused on the things around him, the things he couldn’t change and the things that were, all so that he wouldn’t have to focus on the things that were to come. 

He swallowed hard, finally feeling some of the adrenaline leaving his body, and he slumped against Daryl’s back, letting his head rest between Daryl’s shoulder blades. He hoped the archer wouldn’t mind him leaning on him like this, not that Rick could change the fact even if he wanted to. One of Carl’s small hands found his and gripped his father’s hand tightly while his other was knotted somewhere in the leather vest Daryl wore. 

“Thank you,” Rick said softly. He didn’t know if Daryl could hear him over the roar of the engine or the thunder that had been picked up, but he had to say it anyways. His life may not be much of anything, but Carl’s was, and for that, Rick would be spending the rest of his life in Daryl’s debt. 

They drove for what seemed like hours, though since the sun was just starting to set, Rick knew it hadn’t been more than one. Finally, Daryl seemed to slow, his eyes flicking over to the rearview mirror to look behind them and Rick turned to look over his shoulder as well. There was nothing in the road; no walkers, no cars, no life at all. Daryl nodded once and Rick matched the movement, agreeing with whatever Daryl was thinking right then. 

Daryl pulled down a small, dirt path, the entrance half hidden by overgrowth from the road, and Rick felt himself smile. No one would be able to find this path if they weren’t looking for it, and he was impressed that Daryl had even seen it himself. They moved slowly down the path, Rick keeping his eyes peeled in the woods around the road for walkers, and Daryl watching the road cautiously for potholes and downed debris--it wouldn’t do them any good to end up stranded in the middle of the woods. 

The area around them started to darken, and Carl’s hands tightened his hold. Rick swallowed hard, wondering what the hell they were going to do for Carl once they reached a destination for the night. All of the pain medication was left on the RV… 

Just when he was about to suggest they turn back for the road, a small log cabin came into view. Daryl pulled off of the road, parking the motorcycle between two large pines and efficiently blocking them from view of the house. They sat in silence once the engine was killed and listened. 

Rick could hear a few birds, making their rounds before nightfall, and some scattering of leaves in the distance. He held his breath, waiting, and Daryl shook his head once. Squirrels, or something similar, not walkers. 

“I’ll check the back,” Rick offered, slipping off of the bike and taking out his pistol. “Carl, you stay here with Daryl.” Both of them nodded back at Rick and he slipped out of the cover of the trees, making his way slowly to the house. He slipped around the side, listening as he went, squinting into the darkness of the trees for anything coming his way.

A quick knock on the back door and Rick waited again. The waiting game. He supposed not much changed from his ‘real life’ to his ‘new life’. As an officer, he’d spent most of his days waiting as well, and just like then, he was ever grateful to be met with silence. 

He made his way back over to Daryl and Carl, still listening and keeping an eye on the front door and front windows. “I think it’s clear,” he spoke softly once he reached the pair. “We’ll have to do a sweep, room to room, but I see nothing.”

“Let’s do it,” Daryl responded and handed Carl over to him, getting off of his bike. Rick nodded and together they approached the house. Rick placed Carl down on the bench before the front door, silently telling him to stay put. Carl nodded once, already scoping out the front of the house, and Rick wasn’t sure if he should feel proud that his son already knew to look around the perimeter or feel sick that his nine year old should even have to worry about something like that. 

Daryl opened up the door--finding it unlocked-- and Rick followed into the darkened house behind him. Slowly, they moved through each room of the downstairs, clearing it quickly. Rick was excited to find a relatively well-stocked kitchen as well as a nice stocked gun room in place of a downstairs bedroom. 

“Hunter’s cabin,” Daryl remarked softly, and Rick nodded in agreement. Hopefully, it had been abandoned when the world changed and no one would be coming to look for the supplies. They took to the stairs and were quick to clear the first three rooms. The fourth, and final room, gave a noise the moment they stepped close to it and Rick raised an eyebrow in Daryl’s direction. Daryl nodded, pointing to the side of the door and Rick moved into position quickly. 

1… 2… 3… Rick counted in his head with Daryl’s fingers and at the final count, he ripped the door open and slid to the side, away from the barrel of Daryl’s gun. A large family of squirrels erupted in a frenzy, scattering around the room and out of the large, open window. Rick felt his shoulders relax and he shut the door behind them as they moved back downstairs. 

They wouldn’t need all of the rooms anyways.

Lori and Andrea quickly slid in the car, Andrea sitting in the back behind Shane and Lori at his side in the front seat. 

"Where did they all come from?" Andrea's panicked voice spoke in Shane's ear, who was trying to focus on driving and not on her annoyingly shrill tone; he clenched his jaw tightly.

"Shut the fuck up!" he bellowed and both women looked at him with wide, taken back looks, as if he had struck them both. Shane really didn't care, Andrea was more then welcome to get out if she didn't like it, but Lori… she wasn't going anywhere. She was carrying his baby, and all he cared about was their safety; if came down to it, he would sacrifice the dumb blonde sitting behind him. 

Shane's gaze fell on Rick and Carl caught up by the vehicles he had sabotaged and smirked to himself. With those out of the way, there was only one other option, but he couldn't let them get to the RV. Carl made his decision, if he wanted to die with his father, then so be it. 

"We’ve got to help them!" Lori pleaded, her fucking motherly instinct making her weak. Shane glanced over at her surprised, not comprehending why she still cared about two people that had decided to abandon her. Taking a hand off the steering wheel, Shane rubbed at his head, and sped toward Rick and Carl. Rick had jumped out of the way at the last minute, pulling Carl out of the way of danger too. 

"What the hell was that?" Lori demanded. "You could have killed them!" 

"The hell do you care? They abandoned you!" Shane snapped back, plowing forward, purposely missing any walker that got in the path to add more walkers to go after Rick and Carl. 

"Stop the car," Lori calmly stated, only to be ignored by Shane. "I said stop the car!" 

"I'm not stopping Lori! They are gone, there is no reason to stick around," Shane snapped back and shot a glare at Lori, hitting the median between edge of the farm and the gravel ungrooved side of the road. He turned the wheel and slid onto the smooth concrete of the highway. Lori's eyes began to water and Shane scoffed at the sight. 

"You want to get out and see how far you get alone?" Lori shook her head, sniffling, and turned her head around to watch the driveway of the farm fade from behind them. She hoped, when she saw the RV, that Rick and Carl had made it on board. Glenn and Dale whipped passed them, without slowing down, and when they could, they turned off the highway effectively distancing the vehicles. 

"Where are we going?" Andrea asked softly, almost afraid to speak. 

"Fort Benning."

Once Daryl and Rick were sure the cabin was safe, they went back outside to let Carl go in. "Hold up," Daryl grunted, opening a pouch on the side of the bike and rustling through it. He brought out a bag, tossing it toward Rick. "Merle's stash, some kick ass pain killers in there for the kid." 

"Daryl… this is too much..." Rick remarked and Daryl shook his head. 

" No… it ain't." Something in the archer's tone told Rick there was more to say, but he was holding back for Carl's sake.

"Carl, go inside," he prompted sternly. Carl looked between the two adults confused but went in and closed the door. "What?" he asked simply and Daryl shifted, casting his eyes away from Rick.

"I thought about it...."

"Thought about what?" 

"Taking off, leaving you for the dead." 

"You didn't," Rick pointed out to Daryl, who shook his head again, meeting the officer’s gaze finally. 

"Nah… couldn't." 

"Why?" Daryl wasn't sure if Rick was asking why he didn't leave, or why he had came back. 

"Couldn't let you and the kid die like that. Didn' matter no more what you did to Merle." Daryl tried explaining, hoping he made himself clear. He didn't know what else he was supposed to say, he wasn't going to beg for forgiveness or to stay with Rick. Instead he went to his bike, making his mind up to leave. 

"Where you going?" Rick asked.

"You want me to stick around? After what I just told you?" Daryl narrowed his eyes, confused.

“Daryl…” Rick shook his head. He was close to laughing -- the entire situation seemed so absurd to him. The fact that Daryl was the one that thought he should leave… “You saved my son’s life, you saved my life. As far as I’m concerned, you’re good in my book. So you thought about leaving us there… You didn’t. You didn’t leave us there. Actions speak louder than words.”

Rick shook his head again and turned back towards the house. “I think I saw some cans in the kitchen… If you can open them, I’ll see about getting a fire started.” He didn’t wait for Daryl’s response, just moved to the side of the house to pick up a good amount of kindling. He thought he saw a small stack of firewood in the living room and he hoped it would be enough to get them through the night so that none of them would be outside in the pitch dark. 

At the door, he paused, holding it open, and felt himself smile when Daryl pressed in at his side. 

“If there’s beans, I’m calling ‘em,” Daryl said softly as he made his way towards the kitchen and Rick laughed.

“They’re all yours.”

Rick made quick work of starting a fire and smiled happily at his son when Carl started dragging blankets in from the bedrooms to the living room. 

“I shut all of the doors, Dad… just in case.”

“Good, no that’s good. Thank you Carl,” Rick ruffled his son’s hair and then pointed to a large recliner. “Now, I want you to sit. How’s your chest feeling?”

“I’m okay,” Carl said quickly, but he couldn’t hide the look of relief that crossed his face as he sank down into the chair. “I only carried one blanket at a time.”

“Alright,” Rick nodded and turned his attention back to the fire. “Did you take one of those pills? And did you thank Daryl?”

“Yeah, and no… but I will, Dad.” Carl added quickly and Rick gave him a small smile. 

“I know you will, buddy.” They fell silent then, the only sounds in the room was the cracking of the fire and the steady banging from the kitchen as Daryl fought to open a few cans with a butter knife he’d found. 

“You’d think in a goddamn huntin’ cabin there would be a knife…” he muttered as he carried two copper pots into the living room, handing them down to Rick who got them situated in the fire, careful to minimize the amount of ash that would get into the food. Not that it would matter-- hot food would taste damn good, ash or not. 

“Dad…” Carl said softly, causing both men to turn and look at him. “Do you think everyone else got out okay?”

Rick bit his lower lip, looking over at Daryl and catching his eye. “I… I hope so, Carl. I think that Shane and your Mom got out in a car… and we saw the RV leaving, so Dale and Glenn are probably okay.”

Carl nodded slowly, looking down at the blanket he had folded over his lap. “Do you think we’re going to see them again?”

Rick sighed, grateful that the beans had started to boil and hiss, giving him a small distraction to focus on before he answered. Because how the fuck was he supposed to answer that? How was he supposed to tell his nine year old son that the chances of him seeing his mother again were slim to none? That the people --most of whom had been helpful and cared for Carl in one way or another-- that they’d lived with for the past few months were probably dead, or lost, or dying? 

“I hope so,” Rick repeated, stirring the food again and looking over his shoulder at his son. “I really hope so.”

Daryl was silent the entire time, letting Rick assure Carl in the only way he could possibly think of. He wasn't so sure they would see the others again, but could you really tell that to a kid like Carl? He deserved to hold on to some hope. 

"Found some bowls and spoons we can use to eat out of," Daryl said gruffly, breaking through the silence in the room. It wasn't much of a subject changer though, and it would probably be better to discuss a plan of action for tomorrow after Carl fell asleep. 

Going back to the kitchen Daryl grabbed the dishes and came back in offering one out to Rick to fill up, giving the first bowl to Carl. 

"Thanks Daryl, for everything." Daryl grunted with a nod, feeling a little awkward by the gratitude. After the three of them finished off the food, the pain meds kicked in and Carl soon passed out. Rick covered the boy with the blanket and noticed Daryl motion his head to the door and followed after him outside so they could talk without waking up Carl. 

Rain was pouring down, accompanied with the clap of lightning and rumbling sound of thunder. "What's the plan?" Daryk asked and Rick shook his head, just as lost as Daryl was in the situation. They had lost the map along with everything else. 

"We need supplies, I know that much." Rick sighed and Daryl nodded in agreement. "See where the road takes us, stay where ever we find that is safe. Not too long, more we keep going the better. Got to run into someone eventually." 

"Find another group?" Daryl suggested and was a little surprised by the notion. 

"Hopefully, maybe we'll get lucky. Find the others, find Merle. Worth a shot at least." 

Daryl's brow furrowed, thinking quietly to himself and nodded his head. 

"Alright, get some sleep I got first watch." 

"You sure?" 

Another nod, and Rick sighed and went inside. He stretched himself out, laying on the couch next to the chair Carl slept in. He found himself surprised at how quickly exhaustion hit him once he had settled down to relax. 

Daryl leaned against the railing of the porch, watching the jagged edges of lighting striking. It didn't even seem like much time had passed from the time that Rick had fallen asleep to when the other man came out to switch him places. 

Walking in, Daryl noticed Carl had accidentally kicked the blanket off himself and he covered the boy up before laying down and resting as well.

As the sun came up, Rick was surprised to see how relaxed he felt, despite being up half the night on watch. He’d switched off with Daryl twice more and was grateful that Carl ended up sleeping through the night. As he let himself into the house, snapping the lock and deadbolt into place, he smiled as he met his son’s eyes from across the small hallway. 

“Morning, Dad,” Carl called out his greeting; his eyes were wide and bright and Rick honestly couldn’t remember the last time his son looked this good. 

“Morning Carl,” Rick replied, crossing the room and sinking down onto the edge of the couch. “Where’s Daryl?”

“He said he was making some sort of trap to see if he could get any of the squirrels in that room upstairs.” Carl shrugged and stretched, the blanket that had been covering him falling down to the ground. “I wouldn’t mind some squirrel for breakfast… Didn’t think I’d ever say that, did you Dad?” Carl grinned and Rick couldn’t help but laugh. 

“No, can’t say that I did.” Rick pushed off of the couch and stroked the fire, adding another log to it so they would be able to cook anything Daryl caught or heat up whatever they could find in the kitchen. Rick leaned over, kissing the top of Carl’s head. “I’m going to do a quick inventory…. Do you need anymore of those pills from Daryl?”

“He already gave me one this morning,” Carl shook his head. “Said we’d probably end up doing some walking today so it would be good to take, just incase.”

Rick nodded, surprised that Daryl had taken it upon himself to look out for his son. It wasn’t that it wasn’t appreciated--it was just surprising. Daryl owed them nothing, not one thing. As Rick made his way into the kitchen to start picking through all the cabinets, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d misjudged Daryl in the first place. And if that was the case… he wondered if he’d misjudged Merle as well… 

Sighing to himself, Rick emptied out the two large cabinets by the stove which held a surprising amount of dry ingredients. Sending up a silent prayer, Rick turned on the faucet and after a minute of sputtering, water started to flow. He watched it, the brown, rust colored water slowly clearing, and he smiled. This property was on a well. 

He made quick work of rinsing out some cooking pots and then shut off the water -- it wouldn’t do them any favors if the lack of use caused the well to be dry before they were able to get drinking water. He searched through the drawers for a can opener and let out a small cry of triumph when he found a manual one. The non-perishable food was lined up on the counter and after a quick scan, Rick decided breakfast would be some maple baked beans and rice. 

After a quick scan of the can to make sure it wasn’t damaged in anyway, Rick set forth opening up their meal and emptying it into a pan. He poured a handful of rice into a second pan and added more water before heading back to the living room.

With his dad in the kitchen and Daryl upstairs making a trap, Carl was left alone in the living room. The pain killers Daryl had given him kicked in quickly, making the throbbing of pain disappear, but it didn't necessarily make him drowsy. He knew he should have saved his strength, but he was getting restless just sitting there while Daryl and his dad took care of _everything_. 

All Carl could think about was the others, their fates, and it was driving him crazy. He needed to distract himself; he’d never seen a squirrel trap before, maybe Daryl would show him, like when he showed him to gut a fish. Checking the kitchen to make sure his dad wasn't looking, Carl scooted off the chair and crept up stairs. 

"Aren't you supposed to be resting?" Daryl's gruff voice asked before Carl had even reached him. 

"How did you know it was me?" Carl asked, avoiding the initial question.

"You take shorter strides than your dad, and you make the floorboards creak." As Daryl said that, Carl had been stepping forward, the weight he used making the board under his shoe creek. "You should be restin'. We got a long day." 

"I'm going crazy sitting there, can't I help you. Please?" Daryl sighed and Carl tried not to focus on the whiney plea of his voice. 

"Alright, but you sit down on the ground." Carl's features changed and brightened. Nodding his head quickly, he moved to Daryl's side, immediately sitting down next to him. The two of them set up the trap together, Daryl explaining how it would work. 

"Open the door slowly," Daryl prompted Carl in a low tone; the boy nodded and slowly opened the door to make less noise. Daryl slid the trap inside and Carl closed the door. "Now we wait." 

"Carl?" Rick called from downstairs, panicked. 

"Up here Dad!" Carl called back and Rick came up the stairs, eyeing Daryl and Carl sitting outside of the room the squirrels had taken over. 

"What are you doing up?" Rick exclaimed, worry clear in his voice at the idea his son was only hurting himself even more. 

"I got bored..." Carl explained quietly, looking at the ground and playing with a splinter of wood that stuck upward. 

"He's been sitting this whole time Rick, helped me set up the trap." Daryl interjected, to relieve the other male. 

"Next time, tell me before you get up and wander off okay?" Rick's tone changed, softened a little and Carl looked up and nodded his head. The hat, bobbing along with the movement of his head. 

"Okay Dad," the boy agreed and Rick looked at the door. 

"Any luck with the squirrels?" 

"Got to give it a few minutes," Daryl said. 

"I have some beans and rice for breakfast. We can save the squirrels for lunch." Rick suggested and Daryl shrugged. 

"Sure."

Lunch proved fruitless on the squirrel front, and frustrated with the lack of activity in the room, Daryl took his bow and set out of the house, grumbling that if the squirrels ‘weren’t going to come to them, he’d find those fuckers himself’. Rick had finally managed to convince Carl to lay back in the chair again and take a nap while he took an inventory from the gun room. 

He’d have to talk to Daryl about what they were going to do next… They would be safe and comfortable here for a few days until Carl was completely healed up, but then what? Setting down the box of ammo he was holding, Rick let himself lean back against the door frame and ran his hands through his hair. 

The farm was the first real security they had felt in months, and in a matter of moments that was destroyed. The walkers were everywhere… The two of them, and maybe even Carl if they trained him up, would be able to defend themselves against any stragglers… but an entire hoard?

This small cabin would be overtaken. If he closed his eyes, Rick could see the way the horde had pushed over the stockade fence as if it’d been nothing. If they were out and a horde cut them off from either one of the doors here? There would be no getting through. And then there was nothing around them for miles. They weren’t safe here, not for the long run, and soon what appeared to be a ‘good amount’ of food that they’d found would be nothing. 

The small town they had done runs in from the farm was miles and miles behind them, and Rick wouldn’t be surprised if it was once again overrun. 

He wondered where the others were… Even Lori and Andrea; he may not have wanted to be around them for much longer, nor have Carl around them, but they were life, and slowly that was becoming harder and harder to find. Carl had yet to mention any of the others, but Rick knew his son had been thinking of Glenn and Dale, the farmer and his daughters, and Rick had his fingers crossed that they’d made it out too. He didn’t know how, but part of him hoped they would meet up again. 

The sound of the door pushing open had Rick on alert, and he turned out of the room quickly, crossing over to stand in front of Carl’s sleeping form and only allowing his shoulders to relax when Daryl moved into the living room. The other man nodded once at him, placing his bow down to lean against the wall. His eyes flicked to Rick’s side and after seeing the sleeping boy, he jerked his head to the side and went into the kitchen. 

“God rabbits,” Daryl said when Rick joined him. He tossed a sack onto the counter with a _thump_ and Rick smiled at him. 

“Awesome. Thank you.” He tipped the bag and three hares slipped out onto the counter. “We should probably smoke some of the meat.” Daryl nodded and threw the bag over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. 

“I’m gonna check upstairs.” Rick nodded at him and started working on skinning the rabbits in the sink. When Daryl came back downstairs he had worked his way through two of the three rabbits and jumped when Daryl threw two squirrels into the sink with the last hare. “Dinner is served.”

Rick laughed, looking over his shoulder to meet Daryl’s eyes. The other man had a small smile on his lips, his eyes crinkling with the grin, and Rick only laughed harder. Even if this was only temporary, Rick was glad it was the three of them there together.


	6. Chapter 6

After lunch, the three of them headed out on Daryl's motorcycle looking for the closest little town they could find for supplies. And possibly, if they were lucky, another vehicle for Rick and Carl to use. It was a little awkward fitting all three of them onto the bike, and they would be able to bring more supplies back to the cabin. That was, if they decided to go back, depending on if they found somewhere else safe enough for them to stay. Luckily, a few miles down from the cabin they came across an abandoned vehicle. Daryl looked it over suspiciously. 

"Gas is good, supplies left behind, something made them abandon it all." Rick muttered under his breath to himself, checking the area near the vehicle for any sign of foul play of any sort. No use in fretting over it too much, couldn't waste the daylight over this shit; just as Daryl was about to point that out, Rick looked over at Carl sitting upon Daryl’s bike, waiting for them. "Get in," he motioned to the car with a nudge of his head.

"What if the people come back for their car?" Carl protested.

"They aint' comin' back," Daryl stated gruffly. They didn't have time to sit around and justify why their needs were better than someone else's. Especially when he knew that no one would be coming back for that car. It was fair game. 

"How do you know that?" Carl narrowed his eyes at Daryl, arguing with the redneck, and looked at his Dad for backup. Rick exchanged a look with Daryl and let out a heavy sigh. Daryl hoped the officer wouldn't bull shit his kid, though who was he to tell Rick what he should and shouldn’t tell his son? Rick squatted down in front of his son sitting on the bike, resting his hand on the boy's knee before he spoke to his son. 

"Carl," Rick began as Daryl hung back, giving father and son their distance. "Whoever this car belongs too, they haven't been around for a while." Carl squinted his eyes, his nose wrinkling with confusion. 

"You think they didn't make it back to their car?" Rick hung his head for a minute before Daryl saw him shake his head. The confusion turned quickly into understanding in Carl's eyes, and the three of them were silent for a moment. Carl finally slid off the bike and walked over to the car, opening the passage door and sliding in, then closing the door after him. Rick stood up, glancing at Daryl before taking the driver's seat and firing up the engine; Daryl went to his bike and turned over the ignition and they were on their way again. 

Five miles from where they found the car, they found a town. Stopping outside of the perimeter, they left the vehicles behind and cautiously and quietly pushed forward. They picked off walkers as they came across them and focused on getting to the market, hoping that it had not been scavenged completely clean of supplies, or their next move would be checking the houses. The market was filled with more walkers than supplies, which was discouraging.

"Carl," Rick spoke softly, placing a hand on his son's shoulder while Daryl’s eyes darted around the place for any sign of movement from walkers or other survivors. "I want you to take the supplies from the market back to the car and wait for me and Daryl there." 

"But Dad," Carl began to protest. 

"Don't argue with me," Rick stated sternly. 

"We need you to keep a look out for us while we are inside," Daryl interjected, hoping to end the argument and get through to the stubborn kid; they didn't have time for Carl to throw a fucking fit. 

Carl pondered Daryl’s words and finally nodded his head, "Alright. What do I need to do?" 

"If you see _anything_ , honk the horn once _loudly_. We'll come running, _don't_ try to take _anything_ on by yourself, okay?" Carl nodded his head at his father's directions.

"What if you get in trouble?" Carl asked in worry.

"I won't let anything happen to your dad," Daryl spoke up again, hoping his word was good enough for the boy. Their eyes met and Carl nodded, but he still seemed nervous. Instead of saying what it was that was still bothering him, Carl grabbed the supplies from the cart they’d been pushing around and headed to the car leaving his Dad and Daryl on their own. "Ready?" Daryl asked and Rick gave him a swift nod of the head and they approached the first house.

Rick exhaled a slow breath when he watched Carl climb into the car and only turned around to face Daryl once the car door had been completely shut. “Ready?” he asked, taking Daryl swinging his bow higher up onto his shoulder as a sign of his agreement. Together, they walked forward down the main street of the small town. To the left sat the Market, as well as a small deli shop, restaurant and movie-rental store--all of which they deemed a waste of their time and efforts— and to the right of the street were the beginnings of what once was a pretty acceptable housing development. 

They walked down the first street, silently agreeing to skip the first row of houses. If they were going to find supplies here, it probably wouldn’t be in the most easily accessible houses. Daryl took his time moving to the third row before he stopped short, head cocked as he listened. The silence was both welcome and unnerving, and after a moment they moved to the first house. The door and windows were secure and Rick stepped up onto the porch and pressed his hand and face against the small window by the front door. From here, he could see nothing -- nothing looked out of place, no debris on the floor or furniture knocked over, and most importantly, no blood to be seen. Not that it meant anything, not really. 

He gave Daryl a small nod and stepped back, letting the bow man take his place, angled for the perfect shot once they got the door to open. The door opened inwards, something Rick absolutely hated now that he was the one shoving doors open and hoping nothing was going to grab back at him, and he braced himself against the door and let it swing inwards, surprised to find it unlocked. 

Nothing came as the door crashed back against the opposite wall, and they waited another few breaths before pressing forward. Rick drew his knife, pointed to the left of the door and Daryl nodded and took the right. They met on the opposite side of the house at the backdoor: bottom floor cleared. 

“Upstairs?” Rick asked softly, and Daryl shook his head, looking over Rick’s shoulder back towards the kitchen. 

“We don’t need nothing up there. I’ll watch our backs; you see what you got down here.” 

“Alright,” Rick agreed and they stepped backwards into the stainless steel kitchen. Rick knew without needing to look that the refrigerator was something to avoid, and he held his breath as he neared it to check the cabinets closest to the appliance. The first three proved fruitless-- either full of dishes or Tupperware or completely and totally bare-- but on the cabinet beside the stove, he smiled in triumph. “Jackpot!”

Daryl side stepped towards him, holding out rucksack so he could fill the cans and bags of dry pasta and beans into it. There were a few spices that Rick figured couldn’t hurt, and then they stopped by the bathroom and checked the medicine cabinet for drugs and toiletries before they moved onto the next house. 

By the time they’d cleared three rows and twelve houses, they’d only seen four walkers and managed to fill the rucksack completely with food and other necessities. Rick was more than overwhelmed with their haul and even Daryl couldn’t be bothered to keep the usual scowl on his face and was walking side by side with Rick, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“We did good,” Rick said, bumping the archer’s shoulder as he slung the rucksack higher up on his arm. “This is a good haul, plus what we found in the market. We’re gonna have to come back here, clear the rest of the houses. Don’t want to push our luck today…”

Daryl nodded, looking down the road where they could see the car Carl was waiting in, waiting for them. It had been at least four hours, and Rick knew that as patient and careful as his son would be, leaving him alone for much longer would only be asking for trouble. A bored pre-teen was not something they needed to have on their hands that was for sure. 

“Carl?” Rick asked as they approached the car, watching as his son slipped out of the car and leaned against the side of it, a smile on his face as he looked over Daryl and his father, glad to notice that neither of them were covered in any more blood than they had been when they’d left him. 

“Find anything good?” 

Rick smirked and reached into the sack, pulling out a package of chocolate pudding --expiration date nearing, but not past-- and smiled wider when his son’s eyes lit up. He looked up at his father in shock, then broke out in a laugh as he ripped the foil off the top and immediately started squeezing the chocolate into his mouth, licking his lips as he pulled back. 

“You hit the mother lode!” He laughed again, licking the inside of the cup and eyeing the rest of the sack. “How much did you find?”

“We did pretty well,” Rick answered, pulling open the trunk and dumping the bag into the back. “Good amount of canned goods, some toilet paper and toothpaste, even found you a new toothbrush so you won’t have any excuse now.”

“God, Dad. Even during the end of the world you’re going to complain about me brushing my teeth?” Carl muttered, but Rick could tell from his son’s tone that he was impressed, even happy at the prospect of having a new toothbrush of his own. 

“Oh, here, Kid,” Daryl stepped forward, pulling a folded comic out from underneath his vest and handing it over. “Couldn’t find any other issues… just this one. But figured you’d like it.”

Carl just beamed at them and took his comic and the remainder of his pudding cup back to the front seat, plopping himself down and immediately stretching back the chair to start reading. 

“Happy kid,” Daryl muttered and Rick looked over his shoulder, watching the other man for a second before nodding. 

“Thanks,” he said, nodding to Carl but thanking the redneck for so much more than just a comic. Daryl grunted a response and then threw the bag he was carrying into the trunk as well before shutting it and crossing the street over to his bike. Rick shook his head and looked back at the town one more time before slipping back into the car. 

Today was a good day; productive. Someone was definitely looking down on them today.

Daryl mounted his bike, driving ahead of Rick and Carl and headed away from the cabin. No sense in heading back, it was better to continue on ahead; hopefully their good luck would continue and they would find somewhere safe to stay with more people, and maybe even some of their own. It was a long shot, but it didn't hurt to hope. Just a little, though. Too much and it was harder to swallow when things didn't turn out as he expected; Daryl learned this lesson long before the dead started walking. 

Despite a few cars they had to move out of the way, they were making some good progress for a few miles. Then, on the horizon, something caught Daryl’s eyes. He was too far away to make out exactly what the mass was that was closing upon them. Daryl came to a stop and signaled Rick to do the same. With the silence that fell after the motors stopped, he could make out the noises of the mass down the road. But it wasn't just coming from ahead of them... it was also coming from behind them.

“Shit,” Daryl swore as he dismounted his bike and walked to the car, Rick rolling down the window as he approached.

“What's going on?” Rick asked and Daryl’s eyes flickered to Carl before he spoke.

“Herd coming up ahead and behind.” There wasn't enough time for them to walk on eggshells, they needed to get off the road and into the woods, preferably before the walkers caught their scent and started coming after them. Both Rick and Daryl knew it was unreasonable to take a chance fitting the car through the trees. They could leave the car and bike on the street and come back for it after the herd passed; in that moment Daryl now understood why the car had already been left behind once before. This revelation, however, was best kept to himself considering their current situation.

Daryl slid his crossbow from his back. “C’mere kid,” he grunted at Carl. The boy looked at him, confused, before getting out of the car and crossing over to the bow man. “Get on my back,” Daryl muttered and Carl’s eyes narrowed.

“I can walk!” the boy argued and Daryl calmly explained himself.

“We’re going to have ta’ move fast; you're still wounded. _Get. On._ “He enunciated the words and looked to Rick for some back up. 

“Daryl’s right,” Rick stated, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. “I would feel better if you let Daryl give you a piggy back ride.”

“Why can't you do it?” Carl asked his father.

“Daryl can still use his weapon and move faster with you on his back.” Rick looked at Daryl in time to see the nod of confirmation. Carl looked between the two adults and sighed before grabbing ahold of Daryl’s shoulders, hoisting himself up on the redneck’s back and loosely wrapping his arms around Daryl’s neck. Straightening to his full height, Daryl adjusted the boy on his back and his bow in his free hand. Rick motioned him to head for the trees and Daryl went ahead, swiftly making it to the tree line. Even as Daryl ran to get out of sight of the walkers closing in on the street, he was cautious about where his feet landed, being extra careful not to snap a twig and lure the hoard, or catch the attention of any walkers roaming within the woods.

Rick used his knife to take down the walkers; they couldn't afford to shoot off a gun in this situation. Despite how quiet they were as they slipped off the road, a few walkers ended up wandering into the woods behind them. Daryl shot his bow off at them, half turned around, using Carl as his eyes in case something came at them from the front.

“Daryl!” the boy cried and he turned to take a shot at the enclosing walker when suddenly, the ground underneath his feet gave out and he started free falling. Without hesitation, Daryl quickly pulled Carl off his back, pulling the boy against his chest and turned, slamming down a few feet into the ground, unable to bite back a yelp as his back struck against a sharp rock when he landed. The walker tumbled down with them and Rick jumped into the hole, using his knife to quickly stab it in the head. “Are you alright?” Carl asked Daryl, slipping free of the redneck’s grip and scuttled to his feet, examining the hole they were in.

“Fine,” Daryl muttered. “You alright?” Carl nodded his head and Rick bent down, offering a hand to help Daryl to his feet. Taking hold of the offered hand, Daryl grunted painfully as he was pulled to his feet with Rick’s help. 

“Well, well, what do we have here?” The fact he was still holding Rick’s hand slipped his mind the moment he heard the familiar voice from overhead. Daryl froze, entire body stiffening as he looked up, his gaze meeting that of his older brother’s.

“Merle?!”

“Hey, baby brother! You surprised to see me? What you doing with Officer Friendly there? You know what he did to me right?” Merle held up what used to be his hand, waving it in front of his face. He’d fashioned a weapon out of a metal, leather straps, and a knife, all of which was attached to a stump at the end of his right arm. Daryl finally let go of Rick’s hand, speechless for a moment as he stared at the spot where his brother’s hand used to be. 

“We went back for you, but you were already gone, “Daryl explained softly, but he could tell that Merle didn't give a shit about an explanation.

“So you just decided to hook up with the guy that left me for dead?” Merle spat accusingly. Daryl glanced over at Rick and then back to his brother.

“It wasn’t like that... Rick did good by you, and me.” He felt like he was a kid again, explaining to his older brother why he had done something Merle didn't approve of.

“Doesn't matter, it's up to the Governor what happens now. I can vouch for you, but Officer Friendly and that brat?” Merle shook his head. “Let’s get you outta that hole. The kid goes first.”

“No,” Daryl responded quickly. There was no way in hell he was going to give his older brother an opening to harm Carl to get at Rick.

“What you say to me boy?” Merle growled causing Daryl to visibly flinch, but he wasn't going to back down. Not this time.

“I said, no, Merle.”

Carl could feel his father’s hand, a firm pressure against his back, as they stood behind Daryl as the archer spoke to his brother. He never expected to see Merle again… Not after the group had come back to camp without him. And he’d heard the stories, had listened to the crap that had been strewn from the redneck’s mouth, and Carl could honestly say he hadn’t thought about him after that first night of their group being smaller --and quieter. 

His father was silent, letting Daryl take control of the situation, and Carl moved to meet his father’s eyes to see what he was thinking, then his gaze froze on the back of Daryl’s vest. Even in the dim light that was thanks to being four feet in the ground in the forest, Carl could easily see the shiny, crimson spot that was spreading across the dark leather of Daryl’s clothes. Now, he needed his father’s attention for an entirely different reason. 

“I said, no, Merle.” 

A tug on his father’s sleeve did nothing, but he felt the hand on his back twitch and curl in the bottom of his shirt. Carl resisted the urge to rip away from his father and instead tried to focus on why his father seemed so uncomfortable at that moment and why he felt the needed to cling to the back of his shirt. 

Eyes flicking up, Carl felt his blood run cold at the look Merle was throwing back down at them. His eyes were narrowed, his good hand twisting over the weaponed-stump, and Carl honestly couldn’t decide if he wanted Merle to fall into the hole with that look on his face or the entire herd of walkers. 

“You dare tell me no?” 

“Kid’s not going first.” Carl bit back the angry retort at being referred to as a ‘kid’ once again. 

“Not while there’s a heard out there. He has nothing to protect himself.” His father finally interjected, sharing a slow look with Daryl before the three of them focused back on Merle.

“Don’t think I would protect the shrimp?” Merle replied, smiling wide and showing all of his teeth as he grinned. Carl’s stomach churned. 

“No,” Daryl answered, voice barely above a whisper, and Carl twisted around to finally meet his father’s eyes. Rick shook his head slowly, fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt once more before he released him and stepped before Daryl. 

“Alright, let’s get us all out of this damn hole.” 

“Officer Friendly , volunteering himself first. Ain’t that a surprise.” But Merle relented, seemingly losing interest in fighting with his younger brother over Carl going first or not, and he leant down, stretching out his knife hand for Rick to grab. 

Rick reached up, without hesitation, and Carl felt his entire body stiffen when he watched the tip of the blade biting into his dad’s forearm. Rick, however, didn’t flinch. He gripped the hand hard, allowing Merle to give him the leverage he needed to get up and out of the hole, ignoring the thin trail of blood that was now rolling down his arm. 

When both Carl and Daryl were out of the hole, the three of them following warily after Merle who had now decided that talking was over rated and was leading them in silence, Carl snuck another peek at his Dad who was wrapping the cut on his arm with his handkerchief. Carl couldn't help but think his dad was a bad ass. 

“Dad?” Carl asked after a moment, leaning in closer to his dad. “Are we really gonna trust Merle?”

“No,” Rick said, shaking his head as he finished knotting the hanker chief. “But right now, that’s all we’ve got, Buddy. Daryl deserves to see how his brother’s doing, and we’ll support him until he decides what he wants to do.”

Carl nodded for a moment, eyes focusing on Daryl who was a few steps ahead of them, walking stiffly and straighter than normal. 

“Did you see--”

“I know,” Rick cut him off, reaching over and squeezing Carl’s shoulder. “I’ll talk to him about it when we’re behind some walls, okay?”

Rick watched Carl’s eyes moving between Daryl -- watching him as he walked, hands almost darting out every time it looked like the bowman was about to stumble-- and to the forest around them. In the few short weeks they’d spent at the farm, teaching Carl how to shoot and track and watch for the walkers, he’d learned. Although knowing how to kill things, how to protect himself from being _eaten_ , wasn’t exactly something Rick ever thought he’d need to teach his son, he was proud of him. 

For his part, Rick watched how Carl moved, noting when his son was starting to get tired. Despite his outward attitude, he was still healing, and now with Daryl being hurt as well? Rick’s hand was forced. They were going to have to accept whatever ‘hospitality’ Merle was going to provide for them, at least until they could regroup and heal enough to figure out what the fuck they were going to do now. Rick thought about the car full of supplies and food and their extra weapons waiting back for them at the road, but as soon as it came to him, he pushed it back down. 

Now, it was back up. It was their salvation. If this… _Governor?_ Merle was taking them to turned out to be someone they could trust, had a place they could be comfortable at… Well, then they could always go back and retrieve their supplies. 

“Weapons.” Merle’s voice made Rick tear his eyes away from watching the blood stain spreading on Daryl’s back to see that they’d stopped in the middle of a road. There were a few cars abandoned around them, but otherwise… 

“Excuse me?” 

“Weapons. I ain’t having you all -- you especially-- coming into Woodbury and fucking things up. We all know Officer Friendly ain’t so friendly.”

“I’m not giving you shit, Merle.” Daryl snorted, stepping back when his brother went to reach for his bow. Merle’s eyes glittered dangerously and Rick was suddenly very aware that there was more than just a rough childhood building distance between them. Even in the middle of throngs of walkers, coming at them from all sides, Rick had never seen Daryl _this_ on edge before. 

He wondered if this is what he was like when he’d been around Shane… 

“Here.” Rick stepped forward, making sure Merle could see his every move as he unloaded the clip of his gun and handed it to Merle pocketing the unloaded weapon once more. “We keep our knives. That’s not negotiable.” 

Merle twisted the cartridge in his hand once before shoving the bullets into his pocket and turning back to his brother. “Keep the bow, give me the arrows, then we’re good.”

Daryl hesitated, meeting Rick’s eyes once and waited until Rick nodded before he handed the quiver over. When Merle turned back around, satisfied, Daryl slid over to Rick and leaned in. 

“You still have the extra clip?”

“Course I do.” Daryl smiled and bit back a wince before he pushed forward, following after Merle who was taking a side street. Rick waved Carl forward, and as they turned the corner, they saw the large wall cutting across the center of the road. Rick blew out a breath -- Welcome to Woodbury.

Whatever happened after Atlanta, got to Daryl. He had never argued before and the way he had looked to Rick for the next move… Merle clenched his fist in anger. The only orders Daryl should take should come from him, not that fucking pig. At least now Merle had his brother back and things could go back to the way they use to be. For now, just to get Daryl in the walls of Woodbury, he would act civilized. Or somewhat civilized anyway. 

“Open up,” he called to the guard behind the wall. 

“Who's that with you?” A voice called back, sounded like that beaner prick, Martinez.

“My baby brother,” Merle replied, reaching back, forcefully putting an arm around Daryl’s back, and roughly tugging him forward. “Got some friends with him too.” He glanced back at Rick and Carl with a snarl then focused back at the wall. He was met with silence and after a short pause the gates began to open. 

“Get offa me,” Daryl grunted shoving at his older brother, Merle tightened his grip around Daryl pinning him there. 

“Follow my lead, or Officer Friendly and that brat won't make it passed the gate,” Merle threatened. Daryl uneasily looked over his shoulder back at Rick and Carl and stopped fighting against his brother. Once they got in, Merle turned, keeping Daryl still at his side and the knife on his stump tauntingly close to Daryl's throat. “Welcome to Woodbury, let's get you to Doc and get you checked out. While you do that, I'll speak with the Governor.” 

Pulling Daryl along, he led them to a large brick building and once inside, he finally let go of Daryl to lower him on a bed. “I'll be back,” Merle told them before leaving.

Daryl adjusted himself on the bed just before another man walked in. “Hello, I'm Milton. Are any of you hurt?”

“The kid, he was shot awhile back,” Daryl answered first, putting the others before himself. 

“I'm fine,” Carl spoke up, no longer holding his tongue. “ _You_ need to have your back checked out!”

“My back’s fine,” Daryl muttered. 

“No, it's not!” Carl nearly shouted. “Dad, tell him his back is not fine!” Carl looked to his dad for help. 

“You should let – Milton...? Take a look,” Rick said calmly. 

“I'll just need you to take off your shirt,” Milton said softly. Daryl’s eyes widened and his body went stiff.

“I ain't taking off my shirt,” Daryl mumbled. There was no way he wanted any of them to see the marks on his back, courtesy of his old man.

“I can't help you if you don't take it off…” Milton answered calmly. “It won't take long, just enough for me to get a look at it, please?” 

Daryl looked between Milton, Rick and Carl before he spoke. “Can they go wait out in the hall or something?” 

“We’re not leaving you alone in here!” Carl stubbornly said and Rick placed a hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll the right outside the door…” Rick replied to both his son and Daryl, telling the bowman that if _anything_ happened they would be able to hear him and would come right back in. Daryl nodded his head in a silent thank you and watched Rick lead Carl out of the room. Once they were gone, Daryl took off his vest and shirt, exposing his back to Milton. 

“What happened?”

“Fell in a damn hole,” Daryl grumbled. Milton examined the puncture in Daryl’s back before starting to treat it, using alcohol to cleanse and disinfect the wound. Daryl, who wasn't expecting the stinging pain, yelped loudly and without hesitation the door slammed open, Rick and Carl spilling back in the room. 

“It was just the alcohol!” Milton gasped, innocently putting up his hands to show that he hadn't caused Daryl harm on purpose. Daryl could tell that they didn't really receive the message, not with the way Rick and Carl were staring at his back in horror; he felt Milton apply some gauze on the wound before wrapping his torso up in bandages. “Keep the wound clean and change the bandages at least twice a day until it heals.” Daryl quickly grabbed his shirt and pulled it on, quickly followed by his vest, avoiding both Rick and Carl’s eyes as he dressed. 

Before Milton could check out Rick and Carl, another man entered the room with Merle following closely behind. 

“Which one is your brother?” The man asked, addressing Merle who nodded his head in Daryl’s direction. “Ah, well, welcome to you all. I'm the Governor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being so patient!! I am in nursing school right now and my schedule is insane. Jodie has been so patient with me. We are happy to bring you then next chapter and we hope you enjoyed it! Feedback fuels the fire ♥
> 
> And we send lots of hugs and love after tonights episode! -- Dani (lotrspnfangirl)


	7. Chapter 7

Rick crossed the small room, slowly pulling off his boots the moment he sank down on the twin-sized bed, the creaking of the springs loud in the silence of the night. It did nothing to calm his nerves, if anything it set him more on edge, and he hesitated, wondering if he should sleep with his goddamn boots on. Just in case. 

Across the room, Carl was curled up underneath a large, yellow and green quilt. The fabric was soft, worn and smelled freshly laundered. Even though they’d had been granted similar luxuries while they were staying at Hershel’s farm, Rick honestly hadn’t thought he would ever see his son sleeping so peacefully, so warm and comfortable, again. 

The door to the room gave a soft _snick_ as it was pushed open, and Rick started, hand immediately falling to the knife at his side before he saw Daryl slip into the room, shutting the door immediately behind him. They met eyes and Daryl nodded once before heading to the small closet at the back of the room and putting away his bow. 

Rick was surprised how much he relaxed the second the archer was in the room with them. 

The Governor was… interesting, to say the least. He’d seemed nice enough, pensive, but never hesitated to answer any questions Rick or Daryl or even Carl had asked him as he showed them around the compound. They called it a city, Woodbury, but enclosed in the large, concrete walls around a few blocks of what once was a successful city, Rick couldn’t think of it in any other way. 

It was clear, as they walked around and were shown various building and what jobs and tasks were required from the people living there, that they were imprisoned. That was what made Rick the most uneasy. When he’d asked the Governor about leaving, he’d received a smirk, a flash of confusion, and it was the only question the man hadn’t answered. 

Rick tried to push back the swirl of dread in his stomach. They needed to be here, at least for now. Carl passing out before the sun had even set was reason enough, and if he needed more than that? Seeing the large gash that split Daryl from nearly shoulder to hip, solidified the need to stay. There was, of course, the chance that Daryl wouldn’t want to leave Woodbury when the time came, would choose to stay with his brother and part ways with Rick and Carl… but Rick had a few weeks at least until he had to deal with that. Now, it was all about getting their party healed, rested, fed and watered, and prepared for anything the Governor and this creepy town had planned for them. 

“Need to change my bandage.” Daryl’s gruff voice broke Rick out of his thoughts and he looked up, meeting the other man’s eyes in the dim light from the lantern in the room. “I can… ask Merle, if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s fine,” Rick answered quickly, pushing off of the bed and finding the small bag the doctor had given them before they went on their tour. He tossed it onto the bed and motioned for Daryl to sit. He hesitated, eyes flicking back to Carl’s sleeping form before he sighed, nearly storming over to the bed and pulling up his clothing, baring his back. 

“Just… do it quick.” 

Rick bit back his response, sending the tension in the other man’s shoulders, and released a quick breath before he knelt on the bed behind Daryl, turning the lantern to give him enough light. “Alright,” Rick said, picking up the bag. “Here we go.”

Clenching onto the fabric of his jeans, Daryl lowered his head and closed his eyes, trying not to focus on the fact that Rick was getting an up close and personal view of all the scars scattered across his skin. “How's your arm?” Daryl finally asked to relieve some tension and awkwardness that had enveloped the room around the two men. 

“Better,” Rick responded and Daryl could feel him starting to peel back the bandage, exposing the wound to the cool air. Daryl hissed and clenched his teeth again. “Sorry.”

“Not you, the damn air,” Daryl grumbled. Rick’s hand brushed against his skin, it felt calloused, yet soft and with a shudder. Daryl began to pull away. 

"Don't move,” Rick stated, placing a hand gently on Daryl's shoulder, “got to clean it again.” Daryl reluctantly held still, tensing the lower Rick's hand went on his back. Maybe this had been a bad idea, maybe he shouldn't have said shit and just went to Merle. Yeah, because listening to his older brother degrade him and put him down for doing something good for another person... let alone the fact that person was Carl, Rick’s son.

Rick poured some of the sterile water over the package of gauze, just as he had seen Milton doing when they’d been in the clinic. Then, he turned his focus on Daryl’s back. His stomach churned as he slowly cleaned the dried blood around the gash, wincing in turn with Daryl. He could feel the tension in bowman’s shoulders and before he thought about it, Rick placed his free hand on Daryl’s shoulder, thumb running soothing circles over the back of his neck. 

“Almost done,” he said softly, and Daryl shivered under his touch. Rick finished cleaning around the wound and then pulled out a small can of Neosporin. He shook the can once and then warned Daryl before he sprayed it over the wound, fingers tightening on Daryl’s shoulder when the other man let out a pained moan. 

“Sorry,” Rick whispered, dropping the can to the bed before he wiped the excess spray from Daryl’s sides. Now that there was no dried blood, Daryl’s skin could be seen perfectly against the glow of the flame, and Rick paused before covering the wound, letting his hand trail from Daryl’s shoulders down the scars on his back. 

Rick’s throat was suddenly thick as he looked at the map of scars, each one probably with a painful story to tell, now destroyed by the wound down the center. Rick felt Daryl freeze again under his touch, and Rick’s heart was pounding in his chest as he traced each scar carefully, just barely brushing the raised, white lines with his fingertips. 

Rick heard the sharp intake of breath before him, Daryl getting ready to say something, and for the life of him Rick couldn’t decide what he _wanted_ Daryl to say. _Don’t ask about them. They’re nothing. Don’t stop touching me,_ and it send something warm and dark through Rick’s veins. 

Then, the door opened and Rick was suddenly hyper aware of the reality around them; they were in a room, in a new place, surrounded by people they didn’t know. And for a moment, Rick hadn’t thought of anything except the heated skin beneath his touch and the man sitting before him. 

“Doc said you needed dressings changed.” Rick dropped his hands, spinning on the bed to see Merle standing in the doorway, good hand on his hip and his eyes stuck on Rick’s hands in his lap.

Daryl’s body suddenly went rigid and the blood in his veins went cold; turning he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I… um… I asked Rick to help me…” 

“I can see that,” Merle spat venomously, “You could have asked me. _I'm_ your brother, who the hell is Rick to you?” 

_A partner_ , Daryl wanted to say, but the words caught in his throat. “A friend,” is what he said instead; but it was more than that, he knew it, just couldn't admit it to Merle cause he wasn't sure what the _more_ was exactly. Merle snorted at his answer, shaking his head. 

“Ain't shit, blood's thicker.” 

“Daryl and I have been watching out for each other; taking care of each other. Like brothers.” Rick spoke up and Merle's eyes shifted to him, the sneer on his face growing darker. 

“But you _ain't_ brothers. You got something for my brother, Officer Friendly? Been fucking him?”

“That's enough!” Daryl shouted, raising to his feet, getting in his brother's face. 

“You know, I found it amusing you finally grew a pair, but you're pressing it _Darlina._ ” Merle put his hand on Daryl's shoulder, shoving him back.

“Stop!” Rick shoved to his feet, anger burning through him as he planted himself between Daryl and his brother. The incredulous look he got from both of them almost made him back down. They were brothers, and they definitely had some shit to deal with, but Daryl was hurt and Merle putting his hands on him? No, that wasn’t going to fly. 

“You trying to tell me what to do, pig?” Merle spat, shifting his attention completely onto Rick, hands forming fists at his side. 

“I’m telling you to back off,” Rick replied, eyes flitting over to Carl for a moment before snapping back onto Merle’s. “It doesn’t matter who helps Daryl with his dressings, long as they’re done. And since blood’s thicker, you should just be damn happy someone’s had your brother’s back while you were playing house here in Woodbury.”

“You son of a bitch,” Merle swore, pushing forward so that he was chest to chest with Rick, blade suddenly right at Rick’s throat. “You say that like it wasn’t your fault I was separated from my baby brother here.”

Rick swallowed hard, weighing the next words carefully. Daryl was like a stone at his back and he could see the shift of breathing from his son out of the corner of his eye. Backing down now might get Merle to leave, but it would also allow him to think that he could just waltz in whenever he damn well pleased… 

“I wasn’t the one,” Rick started, voice pitched low, but he knew that Merle could hear every word. “Who decided to walk around like a chauvinistic, ignorant, bastard. That, was all on you, and so yeah, it was your fault you got chained to the top of that fucking building. I would do it again.”

“Back off Merle, if you were so damned worried about me you would've came back after you got free. That's on you!“ Daryl grabbed his brother by the shirt, pulling him away from Rick. “Stop playing the fucking victim, you ain't fucking foolin’ anyone.”

“You on _his_ side now?” Merle spat furiously, “I could have him kicked out of here in a heartbeat.”

“If Rick goes, I go.” The statement not only seemed to shock Merle, but Rick as well. 

“You wouldn't. You just talk a big game.” Merle finally said, once he seemed to gain back the ability to speak, but his voice sounded sure and unaffected. 

“Try me,” Daryl challenged. “Now get out,” he demanded pointing to the door. Merle looked between Rick and Daryl, and backed off, holding his hands up in defeat. 

“Alright, if that's what you want little brother. This ain’t over, no fucking pig is going to -” Daryl slammed the door in his brother's face before he could say another word and flicked the lock. Daryl rested his head against the door, and sighed. 

“Did you mean it?” Rick asked breaking the silence in the room, Daryl lifted his head and turned to him giving him a short nod of the head.

“Yeah, I did.” Daryl muttered and shivered as a cold chill went through the room and walked over to where he had tossed his shirt and picked it off the ground, pulling it back on. He turned to look at Rick and faltered on his words, not knowing what he _wanted_ to say to him. _Thank you. I'm sorry about my idiot brother._

“We should get some rest,” Rick pointed out; not only was it late but a lot had happened and they were both exhausted. Daryl chewed on his lower lip and bopped his head in agreement. 

“Yeah, alright.” Daryl climbed into one of the beds and turned his back to Rick, the light of the lantern faded and Daryl held his breath hearing Rick's footsteps in the darkness. The springs in the mattress across from his own groaned under the pressure of weight from a body and Daryl slowly exhaled; the way Rick had touched him earlier, Rick’s fingers brushing gently across his skin. Daryl shuddered all the memory, willing the troubled thoughts to go away. He wasn't sure why Rick had touched him like that, and Daryl wasn't sure if he _liked_ it or not.

“I don't trust him,” Merle told the Governor the next morning, once they were alone together and the small meeting they’d had about the new arrivals was over. He had removed the bayonet from the self-made metal covering around the stump of his hand and was now crossing his arms as he spoke, a frown upon his face. The man before him leaned forward on his chair, a glass of whiskey nestled in between his hands and resting on the table before him. 

“Why is that? Is it because of what Rick did to you, or because of your brother?” the Governor asked Merle, testing where Merle's head was truly at. If Rick turned out to be an asset they needed to keep around, Merle would have to get beyond the little tiff between the two of them. 

“Rick isn't to be trusted, he is impulsive.” Shane's voice came from the door as he had walked in after receiving the news that Rick had been brought into Woodbury. He couldn't let Rick come in here and screw up this wonderful place, he _wouldn’t_. “Letting him stay would be suicidal. He'll try to take you down and take Woodbury for himself all with Daryl at his side like a lost puppy dog.” 

Shane added the last part, purposely throwing a look at Merle who gritted his teeth with a low growl, storming out of the house and to the streets of Woodbury. Merle wasn't going to let that fucking pig continue to brainwash his baby brother. This ended now, even if it meant Merle had to beat some sense into Daryl. 

Merle made a pit stop to the medical building, slipping in the back door and coming back out with a chloroform doused rag. He walked, confident and smooth, back to the home where they’d placed Officer Friendly and his goddamn brat.

Quietly, Merle snuck into the building and noticed that Daryl was beginning to stir. He stepped on a creaky floorboard and his baby brother was up, swinging his fist in the darkness; Merle used his stump to block the strike. 

Using his good hand, Merle grabbed his brother, covering his nose and mouth with the rag. Even with just one good hand, Merle had no problem overpowering Daryl’s struggles until he fell limp in his arms. 

Once he was out, Merle dragged Daryl out of the building and away into the dark.

Rick ran a hand back through his damp hair, his skin scrubbed raw, clean of weeks of walkers and stress and survival. He had completely forgotten how good hot water felt, and not just water that took three hours to boil on a fire. Woodbury, it seemed, had created their own ways to make this small town run. There was electricity -- sure, it was on timers and had strict regulations, but it was _light_ \-- and their own plumbing and electricity. When he’d gone to get them all something to eat for breakfast, trying to remember the way to the dining hall. The Governor had said something about it being in the old elementary school and Rick set off to find it. 

When he left, Carl and Daryl had still been sleeping, the curtains pulled tight and were surprisingly successful at blocking out the sun. In another life, Rick would’ve been over the moon about curtains that would help him sleep when he had overnights…

He’d found the dining hall and gotten enough food for the three of them to eat in their room, surprised when there was fresh fruit in a large metal bowl. He managed to grab six apples, shoving a few in his pockets, and smiled when he realized he probably wouldn’t even have to fight with Carl to get him to eat the fruit. 

Grabbing some of the baked bread they had and a can of beans, Rick made his way back towards the housing. Around him, people were walking around, completely relaxed and part of Rick wanted to laugh at them for being so foolish. Just because there wasn’t a threat right here, right now, didn’t mean there wasn’t one looming… there was always the potential of a wall falling, someone getting bit and sneaking in. All it would take was one walker to cause complete and total chaos in a town that had taken to pretending the outside world didn’t exist. 

Rick looked down at his hands filled with the food and wanted to kick himself. He was one to judge… he would never be able to draw a weapon while he was loaded down with apples and bread. 

Sighing, Rick made a point to move back to their building faster. As he turned the corner to the building, he saw Carl jogging down the steps, Rick’s Sheriff Hat sliding down into his eyes. 

“Carl!” Rick stopped short, looking around quickly. No one should know his son’s name, save Daryl, Merle and the Governor if he remembered. Carl looked just as confused as Rick and his head snapped up, his eyes widening as he pushed the hat back. A woman was moving towards him quickly, and Rick felt his heart seize when he realized who the woman was. 

Lori. 

Lori was here. Lori was running towards Carl, the boy suddenly lost in her arms and the two of them falling down to the steps. If Lori was here… 

“Carl!” Rick yelled, his voice sharp and loud causing half of the street to look up in alarm at Rick. Lori’s shoulders stiffened and then she was standing, dragging Carl down the street with her, Carl fighting her as he shot a glance back and met his Dad’s eyes, unsure what he was supposed to do. Rick felt his stomach twist. This was not what he wanted for his son… it was never supposed to be a competition, it was supposed to be Rick and Lori and Carl, fighting for one another and not _against_. But there was nothing Rick wished he had more than his gun. 

“Lori!” Rick screamed his ex-wife’s name, darting after them down the side of the building, and before he knew it he was whipping one of the apples at the back of her head. Lori screamed out in pain, dropping Carl’s arm and reaching for the back of her head, spinning to face Rick. 

“What the fuck, Rick!” she screeched, storming back towards him, releasing her head only to slam her fists into Rick’s chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Me?” Rick snorted, eyeing Carl over her shoulder to make sure the boy was okay. Carl nodded once, sliding against the building until he was behind Rick, watching his parents carefully. “You’re the one hauling your son off like he’s a goddamn sack of potatoes!”

“Well, he’s my son, Rick! I have every right to talk to him and make sure he’s okay since the last time I saw him, the entire fucking camp was being run over by walkers!” She was hysterical, angry tears sliding down her cheeks and every few words she slammed her fists against his chest once more. “I didn’t know if he was alive, I didn’t know if either of you were!”

“Lori,” Rick stepped back from her, shaking his head as she wiped her eyes angrily. “You couldn’t just sit down beside him and talk to him? You had to rip him down a sidewalk?”

“You and I both know you weren’t going to be okay with me seeing him!” Lori shot back and Rick couldn’t help but roll his eyes. 

“Did you think that might be because you can’t act like a normal human being?”

A strangled cry tore from Lori’s mouth and she was suddenly on Rick again, beating his arms and chest with her fists, screaming obscenities at him. 

“Mom!” Carl yelled at her, trying to step forward, but a warning look from Rick made him stop in his tracks. “Mom, stop! Please just… stop! We can go talk, okay? Dad doesn’t care if we talk!” 

“Excuse me, is there a reason we’re wasting perfectly good food?” A smooth voice came in from behind them, and at the sound of the newcomer Lori froze, dropping her hands to her side and staring at Rick like she was seeing him for the first time. 

“I… I don’t…” Lori’s voice shook, her eyes darting between them all before settling on Carl. “I just wanted to see my son…”

“Well…” Rick turned, seeing the Governor standing at the end of the alleyway, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the family, his expression displaying the disgust he was feeling. “Family dysfunctions are best handled indoors and not in the middle of the street. We like to keep things calm here in Woodbury, comfortable. Screaming matches and food fights in the middle of the street is not acceptable.”

“Noted,” Rick replied after a moment, breaking the uncomfortable silence that fell between them. “I’m going to take Carl inside so he can eat breakfast.” He turned towards Lori. “Where are you staying?” 

“Building C,” she answered softly, the fight drained out of her now that the Governor was there. Rick wanted to ask if the others were with her, wanted to ask where Shane was, but bit his tongue. The Governor already knew too much about their dynamics and the calculating look on his face did nothing to ease Rick’s increasing dubiety of the place. 

“Let’s go.” Carl jumped to attention, following quickly after his Dad and leaving his mother in the alley with the Governor. When they finally reached the top of the building and Rick let them into the room, he saw his son’s shoulders relax and the boy sank down onto his bunk, accepting an apple and a chunk of the bread with a smile. 

“It’s like Aladdin,” Carl chuckled, taking a huge bite out of the bread and smiling at his Dad. Rick’s heart hurt at the comment. How he wished Carl could be wrapped up at home watching Disney movies with a bowl of lucky charms, drowned in more milk than he’d ever needed to pour… 

“Yeah,” he said instead, pushing back the hat to ruffle his son’s hair. “Where did Daryl go?”

Carl looked confused and chewed quicker, swallowing the bread in his mouth before answering. “He… was with you, wasn’t he? He wasn’t here when I woke up…”

Rick nodded slowly, lowering himself on the bed and looking around the room. Daryl had seemed out when he’d left… it didn’t mean that the bowman hadn’t left on his own but… Rick dumped the rest of the food onto one of the night stands, picking up an apple and taking a large bite out of it. Carl seemed to accept Rick’s silence and was back to eating, flipping through one of the comics Daryl had gotten him. 

Rick watched Carl eat, trying to ignore the unease in his stomach. He pushed off of the bed and moved towards the window, readying himself to open the blinds when he saw Daryl’s vest still folded at the end of the archer’s bed. Placing his apple down, Rick picked it up, seeing Daryl's shirt was still folded there as well. 

A quick check to the bathroom on the floor and in the room’s closet where Daryl’s bow still was, told Rick all he needed to know. Either Daryl had decided that walking around half naked in a strange town, without any weapons, or Daryl hadn’t willingly decided to go anywhere.


End file.
